The Vortex Boys
by AintFraidaNoGhosts
Summary: New AU! Rose Tyler, a writer for Smash Hits magazine, gets the opportunity of her career when she's chosen to go on tour with the new teen sensation The Vortex Boys. What happens when appearances aren't really that deceiving after all?
1. Chapter 1

**This is a new AU for my trope bingo card! It will cover the AU: band square. MANY MANY MANY thanks to my amazing betas and plotters, I can't wait to see how this turns out!**

Rose Tyler often forced herself to admit that there were several benefits to being a writer for Smash Hits magazine. First of all, the compensation was more than adequate for someone with a Bachelor's degree in journalism from NYU. She was able and even encouraged to wear jeans to work. Plus, there was a Starbucks right in the lobby of her building. Her boss was friendly and encouraging, and she had struck up an easy working relationship with a few of her coworkers.

Rose repeated these words like a mantra every morning as she steeled herself to face the day of vapid, artificial teen sensations and celebrities. She had graduated at the top of her class and had always dreamed of being an investigative reporter. However, upon finding no job prospects in New York and only marginally more in London, she finally had to cut her losses and accept a position writing about One Direction's favorite ice cream flavors and where they buy their preferred brand of socks.

It was soul-crushing, mind-numbing work, and she was _desperate _to escape.

However, that was not possible. She had no prospects for an investigative story that could make her visible to more..._reputable _periodicals. Despite her decent wages, her financial situation was a bit tight. She had student loan payments to contend with, along with trying to make a deposit on a flat in the city so she could finally move out of her mother's place. So she was stuck for the moment, and despite trying to make the best of her situation, she was miserable.

Rose sighed as the shiny elevator doors opened to her bustling office. She plastered on a fake smile as she made her way to her desk. She'd barely put down her latte and purse before her editor, Sarah Jane Smith, peeked her perfectly groomed head out of her office and gave Rose a warm smile.

"Rose! May I see you in my office?"

Rose returned her smile, reminding herself that her editor was definitely a perk to the job, having taken Rose under her wing early on and always encouraging her to strive for more. "Of course, Ms. Smith!"

"How many times have I asked you to call me Sarah Jane?" she asked as she ushered Rose into the bright room and took her seat behind the desk.

"Oh, fine...slave driver," Rose teased back. "What's going on?"

Sarah Jane's grin widened, and she leaned forward on the desk, excitedly. "I just got the _exclusive _story of the _decade, _Rose! Have you heard of the Vortex Boys?"

Rose wrinkled her nose in distaste. "You mean that new boy band? The ones that can't be bothered to write out an entire word? _Ur My Everything?_"

Sarah Jane had to pinch her lips to hide her smile. "Yes, those are the ones. We were able to get a spot on their tour for one of our reporters. She's gonna write about the _real _Vortex Boys. Get to know them, talk about their inspirations and how they prepare to perform, what they like and don't like. This is going to be a _huge _seller!"

Rose tried to muster up some enthusiasm, but it honestly sounded horrifying. "Sounds great! Congratulations!"

"I should be the one congratulating _you," _Sarah Jane told her with a smile.

"Oh? And how's that?"

"Because you're taking on the story, Rose."

Rose couldn't help the guffaw that escaped her throat. "Oh, Sarah Jane, that's a good one. You really are one of my favorite things about this job. Now, honestly, please tell me you're sending Reinette..."

"Absolutely not!" she replied. "Reinette is good for one thing, and that is batting her eyelashes at tour managers. _You _have talent. You have a way of getting to the bottom of things, of digging deep and getting the _real _story. And your grammar is impeccable. I want _you, _Rose."

"I don't know the first thing about this band! Except they're _way_ too pretty and that their ridiculous song plays about fifteen times a day on the radio..."

Her editor smiled and reached into a drawer, pulling out a thick paperback and dropping it down in front of her. "_Into the Vortex, _the unofficial biography of the Vortex Boys. John, Jack, Adam, Rory, and Mickey. Go home, learn everything you can about them, and pack. You're meeting them in Cardiff and your train leaves tomorrow."

"Sarah Jane," Rose pleaded, giving one last-ditch effort to get out of the assignment. "Please, I'm not right for this..."

"Rose," she began, reaching over to grasp both of her hands. "You are better than all of this. I know you want more, and something like this could set you apart. Experience is so important in this field, even if you think no one will take you seriously. I promise that this will only be good for you."

She glanced up and met her editor's warm brown eyes. Sarah Jane was her mentor and friend, and had never given her bad advice. She had even had an investigative reporting job, before she'd settled down with her husband Tom and their two boys, Peter and Colin. She'd been in the business for a long time, and Rose ultimately trusted the older woman's judgment.

Sighing, she picked up the thick book and stood up from her chair. "I hope you know what you're doing to me."

"Torture, I realize it," she answered with a smile, handing Rose a manila envelope. "There are your travel arrangements, the card for the expense account, and an outline of what we want the article to include. It's loose, so use your discretion."

"How long will I be gone?"

"It's a summer tour...so...three months?"

"Three months...?"

"Rose," Sarah Jane began imploringly. "You're the only one who can do this justice. I know it's not exactly Pulitzer-worthy, but we've _all _had to pay our dues and work our way up. Being a twenty four year old editor at Smash Hits is going to get you noticed far better than being a junior copy editor at the Daily Mail. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Rose rubbed her fingertips just above her brow, trying to ward of the headache she could feel suddenly building. "I understand, Sarah Jane. Thank you, this is a fantastic opportunity. I guess I'll see you in three months, yeah?"

"Don't sound so excited," Sarah Jane told her sarcastically. "This is going to be a fun assignment. And from what I hear, The Vortex Boys are very nice and down-to-earth."

"Yeah that's what all the celebrities act like when there are cameras and reporters," Rose grumbled. "Underneath they're all neurotic, self-absorbed balls of..."

Rose trailed off, an idea forming in her head. The Vortex Boys had everyone fooled, thinking they were these well-adjusted, wholesome boys when they were most likely sex-crazed addicts. All of these teenage girls who were _so in love _with them wouldn't even _think _about bringing them home to mama if they knew the truth. Rose was nearly positive that under their cute, sweet boys-next-door exterior, she would find drugs, alcohol, and maybe even a sex scandal or two.

She thanked Sarah Jane once more and smiled to herself as she left, wondering if this assignment wasn't going to be her ticket out of teenybopper world after all...

* * *

Rose's coworkers, Lynda and Reinette, were waiting at her desk when she returned with the unofficial biography and manila envelope clutched in her hand. They both held green and white cardboard cups and were watching her every move with great interest. Lynda was smiling her usual sweet, friendly smile, while Reinette was raising a carefully-sculpted eyebrow and looking suspicious. Rose had been wary towards the perfectly-groomed blonde woman from the start. She never had a nice thing to say, she thoroughly enjoyed gossiping behind people's backs, and she treated Rose like an ignorant child every chance she got. In complete contrast, Lynda was welcoming and peppy from the start, and always coaxed a smile out of Rose even after her most depressing assignments.

"Did Sarah Jane want to talk to you about your last story on R-Patz? Because I told you before, it could have been _much_ peppier..." Reinette began before Lynda cut her off.

"Oooh, Rose, The Vortex Boys?" she asked excitedly, picking up the book on the desk and flipping to the center pages of glossy photos. "They're so cute! Are you doing a story on them?"

"Sort of..." she replied vaguely while she gathered her belongings. Lynda couldn't keep a secret worth a damn, and she wouldn't trust Reinette with her library card, let alone something this important to her career. She decided not to talk about her expose and just give them the basic run down. "I'm sort of...well...covering their tour for the rest of the summer..."

Reinette cocked her head to the side. "I'm not sure I heard you right...I'm sure Sarah Jane didn't pick _you _to write The Real Vortex Boys article...?"

Rose smiled sweetly. "Yeah, she did. I'm meeting them in Cardiff tomorrow."

Lynda squealed and rushed over to give Rose a hug. "That's brilliant, Rose! Congratulations! Oh, this is so exciting! They are _so _dreamy!"

Rose laughed. "I don't know about that. Not really my type, these pretty boys. I prefer the chiseled Roman God look myself. Thoroughly masculine and manly." She let her eyes skim over the cover. "None of these boys fit the bill."

"I think ten million girls worldwide would disagree with you on that," Reinette replied with a sniff.

"Well, I guess there's no accounting for taste, is there?"

Reinette scoffed. "Excuse me, but I really must talk to our editor. Rose, have a lovely trip. Try not to do anything...well..._unbecoming. _You are representing Smash Hits magazine."

Rose had to bite back her desired retort. "Don't worry Reinette...I won't do anything you would do."

"Good," she said, moving towards Sarah Jane's office. Rose quickly hugged Lynda once more and promised to text constantly, even to try and get them all together when they came to London.

She entered the elevator and was just able to make out Reinette's indignant "Hey!" just as the doors closed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you all for your reviews and responses! I'm going to go reply as soon as I'm finished all this fabulous posting! I'm going to shoot for a new chapter every 1-2 days, since trope bingo does have a deadline :-D**

**Thank you a MILLION times to my betas! Enjoy!**

_"Notes for The Real Vortex Boys..."_

_Well, Sarah Jane, I've got my work cut out for me. The Vortex Boys are the typical manufactured, artificial boy band based around a vaguely psychological formula for optimum financial rewards. Their manager, Harold Saxon, has done the same with other groups and is considered something of a mogul. The most popular ones seem to be Jack Harkness, the Heartthrob, and John Smith, The Leader. They have the most solos and are always in the forefront of the dancing. Both are marginally talented, I would even say that Jack's dancing is above average. He's a charmer, obviously coached in the ways of being chivalrous and old-fashioned. He kissed my hand and pulled out my chair, was highly complimentary, and even threw in a few legitimate French phrases to try and impress me._

_John didn't say much, but he kept the group together during rehearsal and picked up quickly on new material. His voice is surprisingly nice, and sadly I saw first-hand that none of them lip sync. He seems to be the most musically talented, knowing instantly who was off-key and being able to give them the correct pitch. I caught him staring at me a few times, maybe he doesn't like outsiders coming into their little Boy Band universe. Whatever, I'll have to give you more on him when I have it._

_Adam Mitchell seems to fit the Bad Boy role nicely, so nicely that he gives off the vibe that he's trying too hard. He's a bit rude and far too flirty. He's conceited and obviously considers himself God's gift to women. I may or may not have smelled vodka on his breath. He wears a black leather jacket that seems like it belongs to his older, cooler brother, his shirt is always open (if he's wearing one at all) because everyone needs to see his rippling abs and he wears sunglasses all the time. Even indoors. Even at night. Even _indoors at night_. Not exactly a winner, this one._

_Mickey Smith is the comic relief, The Funny One. He cracks jokes and is goofy and doesn't seem to take the band very seriously, hardly surprising given the material._

_Rory Williams is obviously The Shy One. He was quiet when introduced, didn't say much in rehearsal and even when he tried to, Superiority-Complex-Adam hurled not-heavily-veiled insults in his direction and Rory didn't say much after that. I do wonder if he's a bit slow, maybe has a learning disability of some kind. I'll keep my eye out._

_Day one leaves me unimpressed. This is me hoping day two is better._

_Sincerely, Rose."_

Rose clicked "send" and smiled a bit to herself, counting slowly to ten under her breath...

She picked up her ringing mobile just as she hit "eight."

"Sarah Jane!" she said brightly. "Did you get my email?"

"Rose," her editor huffed. "What exactly are you trying to pull here?"

"Well, you said you wanted to see the _real _Vortex Boys! I was just giving you my first impressions..."

"It sounds to me like you're actively searching out any negative traits that you can find..." Sarah Jane trailed off for a moment before groaning. "Rose, you aren't trying to write an expose, are you?"

Rose's heart began to race in panic. How had she managed to be so transparent? "Sarah Jane..."

"No, Rose, listen to me..." she began sternly. "This is _not _the place to achieve your agenda. Our readers do not want to read that Adam is an alcoholic or that Jack is a womanizer or that Rory has a learning disability. They want to know what they're like _off-camera_, how they treat people, what they eat, and above all, that their little fantasy bubble of these nice guys can't be popped."

"Well, what if they _are _all morons?" Rose protested. "Then what am I supposed to write?

"They won't be morons, Rose, not around a member of the press. If they are, then no one wants to know it. There's a lovely little picture painted to millions of teenage girls and all they want is to make it prettier, not to splash blobs of black across it, do you understand?"

Rose sighed and settled back against her pillows. "I do, Sarah Jane, I do. I just...wouldn't it be nice to give it a bit of an edge? A different angle?"

"Not at Smash Hits, Rose. Besides, this is only the first day! You barely spoke to them, you didn't even give them a chance! You're supposed to be spending time watching and talking and observing. And if it turns out that they're horrible human beings, well...just don't print it here, all right?"

"Right," she replied, defeated. "Well, thanks for the help. I'll work on some notes tomorrow and we'll talk...same time?"

"Same time. Thanks for...diving in, Rose...Adam really always wears sunglasses?"

Rose laughed. "He does! I don't know what to do about him! He won't even put on a shirt when it's raining outside!"

Sarah Jane let out a little giggle. "Oh, Rose..."

"Yeah, I know. Give Tom and the boys my love."

"Of course. Enjoy your night, we'll talk tomorrow!"

* * *

Reinette clicked off the conference line after it was evident that both parties had hung up the phone. So Rose was trying to put the Vortex Boys in a bad light, expose something that Reinette was sure wasn't even there. She'd been following their career for months now and was sure that they were the nicest guys in the universe. Especially John. With his soulful brown eyes and gorgeous smile...Reinette shivered at the thought. How could he be anything _but _wonderful?

At least Sarah Jane had shut her down. Still, she knew Rose was ambitious. Sarah Jane couldn't stop her from writing a second piece and selling it to the highest bidder. The right words whispered in the right ear could ruin a career, and Reinette would not let that happen to The Vortex Boys, especially by some twenty-two-year-old stuck-up, no-talent bint.

She knew how to get information out of people, to get people to trust her, so Reinette vowed to keep an eye on Rose and make sure to stop her if she stepped one _toe _out of line.

* * *

Rose clicked off her mobile and sighed, tossing it down next to her on the bed. He first day on the road had been...interesting, and certainly not as bad as she'd made it seem in her notes. Adam had been borderline intolerable, but certainly nothing more than she had dealt with in college. Jack had made her giggle with his over-the-top, "Hello, Captain Jack Harkness, and you are...?" Mickey talked to her like they were old friends, and Rory seemed sweet, even though he hadn't said much to her.

John, however...well, she could see why millions of girls and plenty of women were head over heels in love with him. He was far more gorgeous in person than in any of his photos, with his sparkling brown eyes, slim build, and hair that she very nearly sank her fingers into on many occasions. He'd been a ball of energy the entire rehearsal, never ceasing in his motions and when he _sang_...Rose had felt her heartbeat increase during _several _of his solos.

They all worked well together and got along well, they treated the band and the staff like they were friends and equals. They laughed and joked and took mistakes in stride. No one tried to upstage the others. Rose actually found herself concerned that she wouldn't be able to find anything to write an expose about.

Rose was still planning the article, she couldn't waste an opportunity like this. She decided to focus on Adam, as he seemed to be the weakest link in the group. Even if she couldn't get them all, he was the most likely to have hoards of issues that she could shed light on.

She grabbed her laptop and was about to start making notes when a pounding on her door caused her to yelp and nearly fall off the bed. She scrambled over quickly and peered out of the peephole, only seeing a pair of lips that would have been unrecognizable had she not spent the entire afternoon staring at them and only half-heartedly trying to banish the traitorous thoughts about feeling them against hers.

Rose opened the door and tried not to look too excited that a gorgeous man with _really _great hair was standing on the other side. John grinned at her and she had to make a conscious effort not beam back at him. He had charisma and oozed charm, but not obnoxiously. It was obvious that he was magnetic, that people were drawn to him, and Rose didn't want to admit that she was not immune.

"Hi, John," she said with careful control over her voice. "What are you doing here?"

"Well," he began, tucking a hand into his brown-and-blue pinstriped trouser pocket and scratching the back of his neck with the other. "We were about to have dinner and Jack may have..._mentioned _that you might not have plans...I mean, not that you're, you know, a hermit or anything, but since you just got into town we thought someone should come ask you if you wanted to join us...?"

Rose felt her small, courteous smile spread into a full-blown grin, her tongue tucking between her teeth without conscious thought. He was adorable, babbling and nervous, nothing like the commanding presence he had on stage and she found him incredibly endearing.

_No, _she scolded herself. _Professional, Rose Tyler. You would actively destroy his career if you had the chance. Pull it together._

John's eyes zeroed in on her mouth and she saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed thickly. Her entire body flushed at the tiny, innocuous movement and an image of her laving her tongue across the skin of his throat accosted her so fiercely that she had to steady herself against the door.

_Well, _Rose thought. _So much for 'pretty boys' not being my type._

"That's sweet of Jack to think of me," she said. "Where are you going?"

"Oh, just to my room," he replied with a grin. "The one drawback to being the one on my own this time, I have to host dinner. Fish and chips okay?"

"They're brilliant!" Rose exclaimed, feeling her grin widen. "I'll just need to grab my key and my mobile...where's your room?"

"Oh, I'll wait for you," he said, his voice going a little soft at the comment. "We can walk down together. Never know what sort of...dangers are lurking around the corner of this three-and-a-half star hotel. You might...run head first into a housekeeping cart or something."

Rose laughed and noticed his smile widen at her reaction. "Those housekeeping carts are menaces, aren't they?"

"Oh, Rose Tyler, you have no idea," he replied, and she shivered a bit at the way her name rolled off his tongue. She turned to hide her surely flaming cheeks, leaving the door to her room open in a silent invitation for John to follow her in. He took the hint and Rose heard the door click softly shut behind him.

"So, what brought you to write for Smash Hits?" John asked in a conversational tone. Rose turned and saw him leaning casually against the wall, both hands now tucked into his trouser pockets and his Converse-clad feet crossed at the ankles.

Rose also noticed, for the first time, the threadbare white t-shirt emblazoned simply with "fun." in faded black letters. The shirt was so thin it was practically see-through, and she actually felt a stab of disappointment at the outline of a slim white vest underneath. The shirt looked like it could be at least five years old, and she knew from her job that the group hadn't hit the mainstream until the year before.

"Best job offer at the time," she replied before offering a teasing smile. "So the record company says you can advertise other groups now?" She spun around towards the bed, gathering her key and phone and tucking them into the back pocket of her jeans. When she turned back around, she couldn't keep her grin from widening at John rather obviously tearing his gaze quickly back from the vicinity of her bum.

"Hmmm? Oh, the shirt," he replied. "I've been a fan for _years_. Practically since they were babies."

"Don't the old fans usually desert a band once they get a number one song?" Rose asked him playfully, nudging him with her shoulder as she walked by.

"Well, that would be a bit hypocritical of me, wouldn't it?" he replied, following her out of the room and into the hall. Rose started a bit when he grasped onto her hand and led her towards the elevator. Not only was the contact unexpected, but the fact that Rose didn't mind one bit was also something that shocked her. His grip was cool and strong and so _comfortable _that Rose actually questioned her ability to let it go in the future.

John and Rose chatted amiably on the way down to his room, which ended up being almost directly below hers. She knew a bit about him from the biography, but the book had mainly focused on the history of the band and their musical resumes. John had been a music student, a prodigy, earning a PhD in Musical Theory and Composition at the tender age of twenty four before auditioning in an open call for the record label on a whim. This had earned him the nickname of "Doctor" among the group and their crew. They talked a bit about their college experiences before he opened his door and an oddly harmonious chorus of "ROOOOOOOOOOSE!" hit her like a wrecking ball and she couldn't help but laugh.

Jack pulled her away from John and instantly wrapped her up in a huge bear hug, picking her up off the ground and causing an involuntary and unflattering squeal to escape her lips. Rory was standing off to the side when Jack finally put her down and introduced her to a pretty redhead named Amy Pond, apparently their wardrobe designer, make-up artist, and an old friend of Rory's from Leadworth. Mickey came over soon after with Martha Jones, the tour medic, offering Rose a bottle of Guinness and a plate full of greasy fried fish and chips. Jack led her over to the small table filled with condiments and introduced her to their catering manager, Ianto Jones, who apparently made the best coffee in the known universe. Adam gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek, his tiny goatee scratching against her skin uncomfortably and she once again made a mental note to keep an eye on him, feeling a bit shocked when she realized that her first motivation for doing so were his wandering hands and _not, _in fact, for the story.

The gathering was loud and raucous, but not out of control. In fact, she caught herself more than often laughing out loud at someone's joke or grinning broadly at a story from the road or the recording studio. John stuck by her side whenever he could, and she ended up staying in his room long after everyone else had left, talking about their work, music, and books until well past midnight. In fact, Rose was the one who pointed out that he had a rehearsal to attend at nine the following morning.

John walked Rose back to her room, ostensibly to protect her from renegade housekeeping carts. She laughed and squeezed his hand, reluctant for the night to end as they approached her door.

"Thank you for inviting me tonight," Rose told him. "I had a lot of fun. Everyone is so nice."

"They're brilliant," he replied, beaming. "And they're glad you're here. Not even a day and they already like you more than me."

"Well, I'm very charming," she teased, grinning at him and tucking her tongue between her teeth.

She watched as his eyes grew dark, zeroing in on her mouth like a beacon. His gaze shot up to meet hers, and Rose nearly gasped out loud at the look of supreme intensity he fixed on her.

_Oh, my God, he's going to kiss me_, she thought, her heart rate picking up.

And kiss her he did, planting a kiss on her cheek as he squeezed her hand tight. She could feel the tension in his muscles, and her eyes fluttered shut of their own accord as she felt his soft lips against her skin.

"Sleep well," he murmured. "I'll see you in the morning?"

"Yeah," she replied, opening her eyes and smiling at him. "In the morning."

"Good night, Rose."

"Night, John."

He gave her one final smile, turned, and walked back in the direction they'd come. His hands were once again tucked into his pockets and he looked so delectable that Rose had to forcibly throw herself into her room to keep from running after him.

Her good mood immediately dissipated upon seeing her laptop still sitting innocuously on the bed. She sighed. She'd not gotten anything useful for her story, at least nothing concrete, but she had plenty of lovely, complimentary things to send to Sarah Jane.

She sat down on her bed, opened up her laptop, and began typing out her notes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you all for the wonderful responses so far! On to chapter 3!**

Rose arrived at the Motorpoint Arena a bit early, showing her press credentials to the security guard. She was immediately issued a lanyard and badge that would give her nearly free reign in the tour venues. Upon seeing her puzzled look, the guard simply assured her that she'd been vouched for and ushered her into the arena.

Rose's stomach churned unpleasantly upon realizing that someone in the organization trusted her, and after so short a time period. It wasn't as though _Smash Hits_ was on par with the _National Enquirer_ by any stretch. As a general rule, they didn't want to ruin reputations or run sensational pieces, but it was a complete shock to Rose that a member of the press would be given full access after only being with them for a day.

She entered the concert area and wasn't entirely surprised at the bustle of activity around her. Their rehearsal the day before had been mostly blocking and musical practice, ensuring that the boys had their choreography and harmonies down. Today was a full dress run before the show and there must have been a million tiny details to perfect before they went on stage in less than twelve hours.

Amy and her team were with the group, putting the finishing touches on their outfits for the first few numbers. Rose couldn't stifle the giggle that escaped her throat when she saw them. The outfits were fantastic; comfortable-looking jeans and white trainers paired with coordinating blazers, ties, and fedoras, all with strategically placed sequins to catch the light perfectly. However, they looked completely out of place in the brightly-lit, empty arena, and the odd juxtaposition struck her as hilarious.

John happened to glance up just as she was within sight of the stage and grinned broadly, hopping down despite the young woman shouting her protests after him. He jogged up the center aisle and met Rose in the middle, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"Hello," he said, a little breathless, presumably from the small feat of acrobatics he used to make it there.

"Hello," Rose replied, shooting him a teasing, tongue-touched smile that caused the same dark look as the night before to pass through his eyes as they once again became fixed on her mouth.

He must have realized quickly that he was starting, because he cleared his throat and met her gaze once . "How...how was your night? Did you sleep well? Have you eaten? There's food here, can you believe it? Just tables and tables of food, right back stage! And coffee, or tea, whatever you want, really, I'm sure we have...do you want to go...see? I could show you..."

Rose laughed and gestured towards the annoyed costume designer, still standing on the stage with her hands on her hips, waiting for John to return.

"Oh," he said, as if noticing her for the first time. "Right, well, I'm sure you'll be able to find it yourself..."

"I may get lost again around lunch time," she attempted to appease him, and the wide smile that spread across his face at the comment heavily implied that it worked.

"Really? Well, that's brilliant! Well..." He tugged at his ear uncomfortably. "It's not brilliant that you'll be lost, but it's brilliant that I'll be in your proximity and I happen to know exactly where the food is..."

"I'll come looking for you when I get hungry," Rose promised.

"Right," he offered. "I better...get back..."

"Probably," Rose teased.

"Yeah..." He seemed to be warring with himself, and expression of intense concentration on his face before he reached over and pulled her into a brief embrace. "Glad you made it...here. Safe. Glad you made it here safe."

"Okay," Rose said, smiling at him as he pulled back. "Blimey, but you're a huggy bunch. Don't think I won't put this in my article."

He was about to come back with a witty retort, Rose could tell, when the rest of the group finally called out, "DOC!" and beckoned him back to the stage. She could see Adam peering at them over his aviator sunglasses, practically pouting at the two of them like a toddler. Rose noticed that he was only wearing the tie and the blazer, missing the untucked Oxford that the rest of the group was wearing.

Shaking her head, Rose sat down in one of the first row seats, notebook and digital recorder at the ready, while she watched them practice some impressive, synchronized routine with the fedoras. She tried not to giggle when, every time John caught her watching him, his fedora ended up on the floor.

* * *

Rose watched in fascination for the next three hours as the group rehearsed. Despite the fact that she had dismissed their music early on, they were _incredible_ performers, even with the synthesized, highly-processed songs they were singing. Rose knew that the music was popular, but she couldn't help the idea that they were _better _than this. She had learned from their biography that Jack had trained in various forms of dance since he was a child, that John composed his own music and lyrics, that Mickey and Rory were accomplished instrumentalists, and Adam was a talented stage actor. Why they weren't allowed more freedom to pursue their interests was beyond Rose's comprehension...she was positive their popularity would only grow if they could really shine.

"Miss Tyler!"

Rose jumped a bit at the sound of her name and turned. A man in a dark suit was striding down the aisle with a lovely, put-together ginger woman by his side. Rose stood as they approached her, and the man gave her a cool smile and stuck out a hand.

"I'm Harold Saxon," he said. "Manager for the Vortex Boys. Sorry I couldn't be here yesterday, I was in Hong Kong with Boy Town for their big show. Have to be a supportive manager, you understand."

"I do, Mr. Saxon," Rose replied, shaking his hand heartily. "Thank you for allowing me the opportunity to get to know the group. They've been very welcoming."

"Glad to hear it. This is my assistant, Donna Noble." He gestured to the woman at his side, who smiled warmly at Rose and shook her hand. "She manages the group's day-to-day affairs. If you need anything, she's your girl."

"Nice to meet you, Ms. Noble," Rose told her.

"Oh, please, it's just Donna. Don't ever call me anything that makes me think of my mother."

Rose laughed, and even the cool, polished, professional Harold Saxon cracked a smirk before addressing the flurry of personnel on the stage. "All right, everyone, take your lunches, I need a word with my guys!"

Everyone murmured their agreements and dispersed, but Rose decided to hang back and wait. She wanted to see how Harold interacted with the group and vice versa, and she was glad she did. John's shoulders were set and tense as he stood next to his manager, who seemed to be giving a generic, impersonal pep talk. Everyone looked a bit on edge, not unusual for having the Big Boss there, but the stormy look on John's face spoke of something else entirely, and Rose made a mental note to ask him about that if she ever got him alone.

She surmised that Harold had dismissed them for lunch and John instantly relaxed as he greeted Donna with affection. They conferred for a moment and Rose started a bit as both he and Donna turned in her direction. She blushed and glanced back down at her notebook, scribbling a few nonsense points down before slowly packing up her equipment. The group scattered, and Rose smiled as she noticed John lingering on a corner of the stage. She caught his eye and he grinned, gesturing towards the backstage area and she held up one finger to indicate she'd be just a moment.

"They seem tired," Rose overheard Donna tell Harold. She hadn't realized they'd come back in her direction, and her ears perked up at the hushed conversation. "And Rory's been complaining that his range has decreased. Can't we give them a little break? Maybe postpone some of their interviews or appearances...?"

"Donna, do you have any idea how much an interview with The Vortex Boys goes for these days?" Harold responded condescendingly. "They can't afford time off. _I _can't afford to give them time off! Give Rory some tea with lemon and honey and have Martha look at his throat. They'll be fine."

"Mr. Saxon, they've barely had time to _breathe-_"

"Trust me, Donna, they'll thank me for this later. Now, I'm putting everything in your hands. I'm off to New York, MTV is pitching me a reality show first thing in the morning."

"You're not staying for the performance? This is the opening of their tour..."

"Time is money, Donna! Call me if there are any issues, you have the number of the jet?"

"Yes, Mr. Saxon," she sighed, sounding intensely frustrated.

"Good! We'll catch up in London."

The pair separated, Donna headed back towards the stage with her shoulders slightly slumped. Rose continued to organize her bag in an attempt to look casual and realized that, despite the fact that she'd barely spoken to the man, she was not at all fond of Harold Saxon.

* * *

As the day progressed, Rose tried to recall if she'd _ever _laughed so hard in her entire life. Jack turned out to be an amazing story teller, and all of them seemed to end up with him, John, and at least one innocent bystander naked. She learned that the boys were remarkably low maintenance for pop stars, and the only request from John was that the bananas were kept as far away from the pears as possible. In fact, when Adam wandered across the room with one in his hand, John sent him a glare so deadly that Rose wondered what offense pears had committed on him to make this such a personal issue.

"Hey, John, Rose..." Adam offered casually.

"You're really doing this? You've brought a pear into my bubble? Adam, we've had a talk about my bubble before..."

"So, you're having a good time so far? What do you think of the show?" Adam asked Rose, completely ignoring John's complaints.

"I don't ask for much here, and I don't think I'm being unreasonable. I mean, I haven't asked you to stop dousing every part of your body in that god-awful cologne..."

"Yeah, it looks fantastic!" Rose replied. "So how much rehearsal time have you put into it so far?"

Adam bit into the pear and John groaned. "And now I'm going to be smelling it on your breath all day! That and the cologne...it'll be like _pear cologne _and I don't think I'm okay with that..."

"We've been working for a couple months now, actually," Adam told her, sliding his sunglasses down his nose and winking at her. Rose had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. "It's been..._very _demanding."

"Not only are you disrespecting _me, _but you're disrespecting Miss Tyler, and you _know _how I feel about disrespecting Miss Tyler!"

"Oh, yeah?" Rose asked, turning to John with a teasing grin. "How do you feel about disrespecting Miss Tyler, then?"

John flushed brilliantly as Adam chuckled. "Oh, you should have heard him last night. 'Don't scare her off,' 'She's brilliant, be nice to her.' On and on!" He laughed again and pulled a flask out of his back pocket with another dramatic wink to John. "This oughta get rid of the pear smell, John. Just for you, eh?" He took a quick swig before coughing a bit. "Blimey, that's strong."

John raised his eyebrow at the action and turned towards Mickey. As if reacting to a silent communication, Mickey met his gaze and nodded, fixing what looked like a cup of tea from the beverage table. He came over and gave Rose a charming grin.

"John, Adam, Miss Tyler," he greeted, handing the Styrofoam cup to his bandmate. "Donna told us all to drink this, Adam. Says it's good for our throats."

"Really?" he asked, taking a sip of the hot beverage. Mickey plucked the flask from his hand and gave John a tiny nod. "Oh, that's not bad at all. And we've gotta sound our best if we want to get laid at the end of the night, right, guys?"

"Oh, go put a shirt on," John grumbled, placing his hand on the small of Rose's back and gently guiding her towards one of the food tables. She tried not to shiver and the surprisingly intimate touch. "Sorry about him," he murmured. "Adam requires a bit of...delicate handling. Doesn't exactly live in the same reality as the rest of us."

"Hmmm, I'd never have guessed," Rose replied, and John chuckled, handing her a plate. They each chose a few lunch items and went to sit with the rest of the group and the crew. Rose remained quiet throughout the meal, observing and reflecting on the group of people before her. It was obvious that they were close, and though they didn't always seem to _like _each other, there was a deep bond there. They took care and watched out for one another, and it was refreshing (if not somewhat worrisome for her story) to be surrounded by people with such an obvious respect for their work and for their friends.

They went back to rehearsal after the short break, everyone still in good spirits. They began working with their choreographer, Leela. She was obviously frustrated at the group, who were energetic from lunch and were having a hard time settling back into the routines. When Leela finally snapped at Adam for adding a free-style, break-dancing ad-lib in the middle of the routine, Jack let out a low whistle and leaned over to Rory. "There's trouble in River City, my friends!"

"With a capital T and that rhymes with P and that stands for 'pool'," Mickey finished.

In odd synchronicity and without missing a beat, the rest of the group all belted out in gorgeous harmony, "Stands for pool!"

Immediately, their keyboard player, Jamie, began tinkling out the familiar melody and Rose couldn't stop the guffaws from escaping her as they bounced to the rhythm and sang the familiar lyrics with joy and enthusiasm_. _Donna was chuckling and shaking her head, as if this was a common occurrence and she had long ago resigned herself to the fact.

There was a cheer from everyone in the stadium when they finished, and Rose's sides were hurting from laughing so hard. She found it hard to keep the smile off her face for the rest of rehearsal, and when they were dismissed around four to rest and get ready for the show, she realized she was oddly excited for it and nearly froze. She never would have thought that after one day, she would feel giddy at the idea of attending a Vortex Boys concert.

As she left the stadium, Rose could practically see her exposé being crumpled up into a little ball and tossed out a window.

* * *

The electricity in the air was palpable. There were tens of thousands of fans screaming, completely inconsolable as The Vortex Boys said their final thanks and goodnights, the band playing their exit tune as the five men ran off stage, soaked with sweat but each one wearing a grin brighter than the sun. They had been phenomenal, and Rose was completely floored. The production quality of the tour was incredible, their performances were so dynamic that she wondered how they were still standing, and the energy from the fans and the music left her breathless.

John's eyes immediately locked on hers as he came backstage, a smile unlike anything she'd ever seen before spreading across his face. He jogged towards her, his gaze never straying, his smile never faltering, and Rose felt her arms coming up automatically as John grabbed her in a tight, hot, sweaty, but thoroughly wonderful hug.

She shrieked as he picked her up off the ground, playfully protesting that he was going to soak her through, but he didn't put her down and she didn't ask him to. They remained that way for several moments, him swinging her back and forth gently. She pressed her nose into the shoulder of his jacket, amazed at how _good _he smelled, despite being a sweaty mess.

He finally put her down when the other members of the group realized that they were in their own little world and apparently decided it was unacceptable. They descended on the pair and there were hugs and praise all around until Donna rushed them back towards the dressing area.

John didn't remove his arm from around Rose's waist until Donna had finished giving her notes and praise, when they were finally dismissed to shower and change. She watched them go, the four of them who were actually _wearing _shirts stripping out of them almost immediately. Rose grinned and decided rather quickly that, if this was how every concert was going to end, she couldn't _wait _to attend the next one.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you so much for your continued awesome reviews and support! If you want to hear the songs they perform in concert, they are linked on my livejournal, username onabearskinrug**

**Thank you again to my amazing betas and buddies! The next chapter may take a bit longer, as the rating will likely increase :-) You'll be able to find the full version at my livejournal, as the one posted here will be edited for content.**

After a whirlwind two weeks of travel, Rose had to admit that her exposé was suffering. She had gradually come to the conclusion during her time spent with the group, their band, and the crew that it would have been impossible to fake these personas and the obviously tight bonds that they shared. In fact, she was toying with the idea of basically giving up on the story all together.

The group had done their best to make her feel welcome, and she truly did even after only two weeks traveling around Britain with them. She'd sat in on rehearsals, they'd all shared meals, and she'd spent more than a few nights on the road giggling with Amy, Martha, Donna, and drummer Melody, the only female member of the band. She always had her own hotel room when they stopped for concerts, courtesy of Smash Hits, but more often than not she either bunked with one of the other girls, lost track of time on the boys' bus, or even fell asleep with her head in John's lap and her feet in Jack's while everyone sat around, talking and trying to decompress from a performance.

Rose couldn't blame them for craving the quiet time among friends after their performances. Even she, just watching from the sidelines, had trouble coming down from the concert high and she had now seen the show no less than five times. She wondered how it was for the boys, to be on stage with blinding lights and screaming fans, giving 200% to each performance and they ever like it got old. She even asked John once, when they were lying frustratingly platonically across the bed in his room, what it was like to perform the way they did. He'd sighed and wrapped an arm around her, tucking her into his side, and told her it was never where he'd expected his life to end up. He'd left it at that and Rose, uncharacteristically, hadn't pushed him elaborate further.

John had taken to walking her back to her room after most of these evenings, leaving her with a tight hug or kiss on the cheek each time, and she was itching for him to take things further. It was intensely frustrating, these mixed signals. He held her hand constantly, was always aware of her even as they sat in comfortable silence with Rose making notes for her article or John composing his latest masterpiece. They snuggled like puppies and she'd even fallen asleep on their bus more than once, curled against him in his tiny bunk while they were supposed to be watching a movie. Despite all this, he hadn't made a move to kiss her anywhere other than her cheek or forehead.

And as badly as Rose wanted to kiss him, to feel his lips against hers, part of her was still unsure about moving forward. They were firmly in an "affectionate friends" zone, but every time Rose thought about taking things further, she felt a gnawing anxiety along with a deep-seated thrill. He was still a member of the most popular group of the moment, he had a million girls who would probably send her death threats should she ever dare and touch _their _John. There was also still the idea lingering in the back of her mind that she was using their friendship to gather information for an exposé, even though it had never felt that way. From the first time he shook her hand and she'd felt _sparks, _it hadn't felt that way.

* * *

Almost two weeks to the day after Rose had first met them in Cardiff, Donna had engineered a rare free day on their behalf. They were in Glasgow, and miraculously, there were no interviews, no performances, and other than a personal training session early in the morning, everyone had the day free. Rose was sitting on her bed, surrounded by hand-written notes that she was desperately trying to organize and send to Sarah Jane when John showed up unannounced at her door. Her breath caught at the sight of him dressed in jeans, a Beatles t-shirt, a brown and blue pinstripe blazer, and white Chuck Taylors. Before she could even say hello, he gave her a wide, mischievous grin and grabbed her hand, leaning in close to her ear to whisper "Run!" as he pulled her, giggling, out of the room.

They spent the entire day wandering through the city, John hiding his trademark hair beneath a battered baseball cap and sliding sunglasses over his nose despite the slightly overcast day. Rose teased him mercilessly about taking a leaf out of Adam's book and he groaned, tucking her into his side and starting in on a lecture about the architecture of the Glasgow Cathedral. Rose snuggled into him as they walked, perfectly content to let the smooth sound of his voice wash over her. They ate lunch on a bench overlooking the River Clyde, stealing bits of each other's fish and chips as they laughed and talked.

"Did you know," he began at one point, leaning in close so she could hear him over the bustle of the city. "That, back in the 1700s, the river was shallow enough to wade across?"

"You're kidding!" Rose exclaimed, turning towards him. Her eyes widened when their noses actually brushed at the movement. She hadn't realized how close they'd scooted towards each other, how when he'd leaned in to whisper the historical tidbit he'd brought their faces in such close proximity that it would take barely anything, merely a gentle gust of wind to push her forward and press their lips together.

Their gazes locked. He reached up ever-so-gently to cup her face and she couldn't keep her eyes from sliding shut, the sudden onslaught nearly overloading her system. She had to shut out _something_, even though the last thing she wanted to block from her view was his face.

"Rose," he murmured, his breath ghosting across her lips and making her shiver. His hand slid into her hair and she felt gentle pressure as he ever so tenderly coaxed her mouth closer to his.

A tinny version of ACDC coming from the vicinity of his pocket broke into their little idyll, and Rose jumped a bit, realizing just how close she'd come to actually kissing him. As badly as she wanted to, part of her still wasn't ready. A niggling in the back of her mind made her pull back and smile softly at his adorably confused expression.

"You better answer that," she said, putting a bit more space between them and picking up one of her now-tepid chips. She could feel his eyes on her as he did just that, confirming with Donna that he would indeed be at rehearsal the following morning at nine sharp.

As he clicked off the phone, Rose turned to him with a friendly smile. "Everything all right?"

"Oh, it's always all right," he offered, standing up from the bench and offering her hand. "Shall we continue our tour, Miss Tyler?"

"Please, Dr. Smith," she teased, relieved that they were able to return to their normal banter. Still, the feeling in the back of her mind remained, something that she couldn't identify but she was sure she didn't like.

He dropped her at her door with yet another hug and kiss on the cheek, and Rose sighed as she entered the room. Her eyes settled on the bed and she gasped as immediately, a realization overcame her.

She'd left so abruptly that morning that she hadn't had the time to clean up her work. There were pages of notes and strewn across the floral bedspread and her laptop was still open. It was then that she realized she had spent the entire day in John's presence without ever making _a single note. _Nothing mental to review later, no quick tidbit scribbled on a napkin. Rose hadn't thought about work the entire day, and she knew in that moment, without a doubt, that the feeling in the back of her mind when he'd tried to kiss her had been _guilt_. A gnawing, ugly guilt at the fact that he still didn't realize what she'd been planning, that she was somehow deceiving him. Her stomach churned unpleasantly at the thought, and she realized the last thing she wanted to do was to deceive John Smith.

She sighed, coming to the realization that her exposé was completely doomed.

Not only was there absolutely _nothing _to expose, but she found she didn't really want to anyway. Slowly and surely, she was falling head over heels for The Vortex Boys, and most importantly, with John.

* * *

Nearly a week had gone by since their "date", and Rose was itching to be alone with John again. She was finally ready to move forward or at least _talk _about moving forward, but the day off they'd shared ending up costing the group dearly. Even their usual quiet nightly rituals had been put on hold, as the group was literally on the run for fifteen hours per day, the only break being quick meals before they ended up collapsing on the bus at the end of the day.

She still had concerns, the fact that he was a world-wide pop star certainly was at the top of her list. She was mad for him, just holding his hand made her pulse race, and he certainly seemed interested in her, judging by the way he forgot the concept of personal space whenever they were together. Even the rest of the group seemed in on the conspiracy, always making their excuses and leaving the two of them alone. Adam tended to be a bit dense, but generally a whack on the back of the head from Jack or Mickey was enough to get him moving.

There was a concert at least every other night, if not more frequently, and by the third week on the road, Rose had seen the show no less than twelve times and knew it practically better than the boys did. There was a point in the show where they selected a seemingly random audience member and sang a sweet, soulful ballad to her. Sometimes they were told in advance who to choose, if they needed to please the right investor or politician, but more often than not they chose randomly and it was amazing. Each member took a verse or the bridge and Rose knew that the young girl would undoubtably be floating on air and remember this night for the rest of her life.

Rose's theory about the group's interference with her and John was proven correct during their thirteenth show. They had just finished performing one of their more upbeat songs, _Shop Girl_, and the screams of the crowd were deafening. The next part of the concert was their serenade, and Rory brought over the customary stool, put it in the center of their little semi-circle, and nodded to the others as Jack came forward.

"Thank you!" he told the crowd, once again eliciting an uproarious screech from the crowd. They all grinned at one another, still not used to these insane responses. "Now is the time in our show when we make a _very _special lady quite happy. Today, we've got the special lady hanging out backstage! Rose Tyler, could you please come out here?"

She froze at the sound of her name. John, too, had gone wide-eyed, glancing around at the rest of his bandmates like they were the cause of a massive conspiracy against them. Most likely, they were.

"Aw, come on, don't be shy!" Rory coaxed, jogging over and grabbing her arms with a smile.

"Rory, no no no..." she protested as he pulled her out onto the stage.

"Trust me, Rose..." he told her, gently guiding her onto the stool.

Her cheeks were flaming as they all gathered around her, and she hid her face in her hands as the crowd cheered deafeningly. It was difficult to see the thousands of fans with the lights practically blinding her, and that made the entire ordeal marginally easier to deal with.

"I'm so gonna kill you," she murmured, starting when she realized that someone had placed a microphone in front of her and her voice echoed through the stadium.

"Now, now, Rose," Mickey said, coming forward. "At least watch the performance first. _Then _you can kill us."

John shot her an apologetic look as the band started up a familiar tune. John groaned but joined Adam, Rory, and Jack on the choreography as Mickey began to ham it up, singing in an exaggerated falsetto that set her into fits of giggles.

_"You went to school to learn girl, things you never never knew before!"_

Jack stepped forward and belted out, "_Like I before E except after C!"_

Mickey turned back to her with a huge, cheesy grin on his face.

"_And why two plus two makes four,_

_Now now now I'm gonna teach you,_

_All about love girl!"_

The other four were singing perfect back up, and Rose knew they must have rehearsed this song at some point, whether just for fun or for another performance she wasn't sure. John still had the small smile on his face, as if resigning to just go along with the insanity that was happening before him.

"_Sit yourself down, take a seat!" _Jack sang. "_All you gotta do is repeat after me!"_

Rose turned behind her and watched Mickey step back with the rest of the group as they did some simple disco moves, singing the chorus with cheesy grins, and ending with "_That's how easy love can be! That's how easy love can be!" _to a massive, screaming cheer from the audience. Rose was laughing now, she couldn't help it. They were utterly adorable, and she was growing closer and closer to forgiving them for this horrible mishap with every note they sang.

Rory stepped up next as the band once more began playing out a familiar tune that had Rose grinning from ear to ear. He gave her a friendly smile and grabbed onto her hand before singing.

_"Oh, yeah I will tell you something_

_I think you'll understand_

_When I say that something_

_I wanna hold your hand_

_I wanna hold your hand_

_I wanna hold your hand!"_

Again singing in perfect back-up harmony, the boys bounced merrily and all sang with Rory's voice prominently in the foreground.

_"And when I touch you I feel happy inside_

_It's such a feeling that my love_

_I can't hide_

_I can't hide_

_I can't hiiiiiiiiiide!"_

They ended with another round of the chorus and Rose realized her cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Adam stepped forward and belted out a rousing version of Tom Jones' _It's Not Unusual,_ complete with a cheesy dance routine that had everyone struggling to sing through their laughter. Jamie switched over to the synthesizer and Jack stood in front of her with completely serious, earnest expression as he began an homage to New Kids on the Block, belting out _Be My Girl. _When he finally stepped back, he physically shoved John forward with a grin and a wink, and John's answering look was murderous. A melody that Rose only vaguely recognized began playing, but John seemed to know it well if his wide-eyed accusing glance back at his bandmates and instrumentalists was any indication.

Still, Rose knew he couldn't exactly stop the concert in protest. He came around to stand next to her and took her hand, giving her a look that said plainly, _"This was not my idea, please don't slap me."_

Rose squeezed his hand and smiled. The grin he gave her in response caused a little thrill to shoot through her chest, one that spread throughout her entire body once he started singing.

"_I don't know how,_

_I don't know why_

_But girl it seems_

_You've touched my life_

_You're in my dreams_

_You're in my heart_

_I'm not myself_

_When we're apart._"

He knelt down as he sang, the entire world melting away as their eyes locked. Rose gasped at the intensity in his gaze. Her heart was pounding in her chest. Did he find some meaning in the song lyrics? He hadn't chosen them, that much was obvious, but it seemed like they were significant. Either that or he was very, _very _good at making a woman feel like she was the center of the universe.

Most likely, it was a bit of both.

"_Something strange has come over me_

_A raging wind across my seas_

_And girl, you know that your eyes are to blame_

_And what am I supposed to do_

_If I can't get over you_

_I come to find that you don't feel the same."_

His voice caught on the last word, and his eyes never strayed from hers. She felt tears welling up in her eyes at the emotion in his incredible voice.

"_Cause I'm falling falling_

_Girl I'm falling for you_

_And I pray you're falling too_

_I've been falling falling_

_Ever since the moment, I laid eyes on you."_

John made a motion to rise, but the music continued. He glanced over at his bandmates, who were grinning cheekily at him in return. They had each only sang a verse, chorus, and bridge at the most. It seemed like they were planning to give him an entire song. He shrugged and grinned, turning his attention back to Rose.

"_I lose my step_

_I lose my ground_

_I lose myself_

_When you're around_

_I'm holding on for my life_

_To keep from drowning in your eyes_

_"Girl what have you done to me_

_To make me fall so desperately_

_'Cause girl, you know that your eyes are to blame..."_

John winked at her and Rose laughed gently. It was obvious that he had changed the lyric. There was no doubt in her mind that this song had taken on a far more personal meaning than he had originally expected. There was no hiding it, so he simply ran with it, changing the words to more accurately describe them.

Rose could have swooned.

_"And how am I supposed to live_

_If I can't get over this_

_You decide you don't feel the same."_

There was a question in his eyes as he sang the last lyric. He wanted to make sure that she did, indeed, feel the same. Rose's eyes were misty as she gave him a small smile and a tiny nod. John's grin turned luminous and he sprang up from his position on one knee, grabbing her hand and dancing her across the stage joyously. Rose laughed as he spun and dipped her as the song came to a gradual close around them.

"_Can't you see that I'm falling falling_

_Girl I'm falling for you_

_And I pray you're falling too_

_I've been falling falling_

_Ever since the moment_

_I laid eyes on you."_

The cacophony of screams and applause was a rude interruption into their lovely little world. John was grinning that amazing smile that made her weak at the knees and she so badly wanted...no, _needed _to kiss him. Instead, he backed away with a significant look, as if to say _"This isn't over."_ She shivered a bit at the promise in his eyes as he held her hand and encouraged her to take a bow. Rose laughed and curtseyed, earning hugs from the rest of the group as they all escorted her off stage and raced through their costume change.

John, however, glanced around and pulled her silently into the empty, shaded corner where he usually dressed. Before she could do or say anything, he took a deep breath and began to nervously babble as he stripped out of his clothes.

"Rose, I'm sorry, I had no idea they'd set us up like that..."

"John..." she croaked out, her mouth going dry at so much of his skin on display.

"I mean, it's completely something they would do, no doubt about it...in fact, I don't know why I'm surprised..."

"John..." she once again attempted to interrupt. He slid into a pair of well-fitting jeans and Rose thought she might die if she didn't touch him. She let her hands drift over the warm skin at his waist, both of them shuddering at the contact. He looked up at her, surprised, his eyes darkening as she pulled him closer.

"Rose," he replied, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"Shut up," she told him, standing up on her toes and pressing her mouth to his.

John's hands immediately moved to her shoulders and gripped them hard as Rose moved her mouth gently over his. She savored the sparks that shot through her body at the contact and pulled John closer, a tiny whimper escaping her throat as they came together, his warmth seeping through the thin material of her tank top. He groaned and plunged his hands into her hair, her mouth opening of its own accord as their kiss deepened.

"John!" Donna called out, causing them to break apart guiltily. "You have thirty seconds to put on a shirt and get out there! I will not have two members of the group risking hypothermia. Adam is bad enough!"

John groaned audibly as he pulled away and he ran a shaking hand through his hair. Rose felt a thrill run through her at the sight of him so affected from just a kiss. "Blimey," he muttered, turning back to the rack of clothes and pulling on his sporty slim tee and denim jacket combination. "We could have had better timing, couldn't we?"

Rose laughed and tugged at the lapels of his jacket, bringing their faces close once more. She brushed several chaste but lingering kisses against his lips, making them both shiver. She pressed her forehead against his and let out a shuddering breath. "My room after the show?"

He gasped, his eyes shooting up to search hers for a split second before he swept in for another breath-stealing kiss. "Rose Tyler," he growled, squeezing her once more before letting her go reluctantly and heading back out towards the stage. "Your room after _every _show."


	5. Chapter 5

**MANY thanks to my betas, especially Miss Kahki for knocking this out so quickly! I've edited this for content, but as usual, the full version can be found at my livejournal (onabearskinrug) or tumblr (aintfraidanoghosts). Enjoy!**

**I know this ended up very short :-) Next one should be coming in the next couple of days!**

Rose felt a teeny bit guilty at leaving the show so early, especially after she and John had shared such a spectacular kiss. Still, she needed time to prepare, and she let Donna know where she was going in case he asked her. Donna had given her a knowing smile in return and promised to pass on the message.

The hotel was across the street from the stadium, and Rose was intensely grateful for the proximity. The schedule had varied as far as their accommodations, either they were hustled back on the bus right after each concert or they stayed the night in a city if there were additional performances, interviews, or appearances they had to attend. Rose said a silent thanks that tonight they happened to be in a hotel and she didn't have to try and shag a man she was completely mad for on a tiny bunk on a bus full of people.

_Oh, God... _Rose thought to herself, halting in the middle of the street. _We're going to shag...and I haven't shaved my legs!_

Rose quickened her steps and made it to her room, breathless, in less than five minutes. She had another hour until the show finished, and she used the time to her advantage. She cleared the bed of her computer and notebooks and cleaned herself up as best she could. Rose was glad she'd listened to Martha and Amy when they'd gone shopping the week before. They'd absolutely insisted she buy a pretty, lacy set of black undergarments. The thought struck her as she pulled on the items that perhaps they had been in on the conspiracy as well.

As she fastened the hooks on the bra, yet another complication dawned on her. What on Earth was she supposed to _wear? _Now that she was clean, she didn't want to put on the clothes she'd been wearing all day. But if she _changed _it would seem like she was trying too hard, but pajamas might seem like she wasn't trying hard _enough, _like she wasn't interested in more than just sleeping...

She froze as another sobering thought entered her mind. What if _he _wasn't interested? What if she had read him all wrong and this was just another mixed signal? What if he just wanted to kiss? What if he just wanted to _talk? _What if he wanted to tell her that the kiss had been a horrible mistake and they should just stay friends? _What if he didn't show up at all?_

Rose nearly slapped herself at the utterly ridiculous thoughts that were running rampant through her head. Pretending it was just another ordinary night in, she pulled on a pair of flattering yoga pants and a fitted, v-neck t-shirt, showing off a hint of cleavage without being too overt. She brushed out her hair and didn't bother reapplying her make up. He'd seen her face bare before and from the way he hadn't been able to keep his fingers from tracing over her skin, she knew he preferred it that way.

She'd just put down her hairbrush when a knock at the door made her jump and her heart begin to hammer in her chest. He'd shown up after all. Early as well, by her estimates. In fact, upon checking the room's clock radio, he seemed to have bolted across the street the moment the show ended. Opening the door, she realized the only thing missing from the closing number ensemble was his hands-free mic and battery pack. Rose grinned. Amy was going to _kill _him for wearing the custom outfit out of the arena. The long-sleeved, baby blue cotton top had with the mesh cut-out shapes had been custom-tailored to his frame and fit him like a second skin. Amy had paired the shirts with silver warm-up trousers and custom trainers. In fact, she'd gotten a pair of Chuck Taylors made for John, grey with accents of baby blue that matched the top perfectly.

Rose smiled and opened her mouth to greet him, but was struck dumb by the intensity in his gaze. John stepped over the threshold, cupped her face in his hands and pressed his lips to hers. He let out a shuddering breath through his nose and Rose felt his body practically sag against her, the tension in his muscles seeming to uncoil gradually as they relaxed against each other and kissed, unhurried and languorously, until Rose finally had to reluctantly pull away to breath.

"Mmm," she murmured, stroking her fingers through the still-damp hair on the back of his neck. She vaguely registered him kicking the door shut behind him and chuckling.

"I'm sorry," he replied softly. "I've just...been thinking about that all night. Kissing you again." He chuckled. "I was missing steps in the routines. Had to keep jumping around and flailing my arms like an idiot so the crowd wouldn't notice. Bloody embarrassing. Leela is going to murder me tomorrow."

Rose grinned, John returning the expression he leaned in for another series of kisses, starting with gentle presses that turned longer and deeper, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips and plunging past as she gasped, threading her fingers into his magnificent hair and chuckling when she realized it was now coarse and stiff from drying sweat.

John pulled away with a questioning look and Rose grinned, her tongue caught between her teeth. "You really did come right here after the show, didn't you?"

"What...oh, yes, well...I suppose I'm a little bit manky..."

Rose giggled. "I don't mind, but you could always use my shower...if you want." She stood up on her tiptoes and began tracing kisses up his neck, sucking his earlobe ever-so-gently and whispered, "I could join you..." in his ear.

John gasped and gripped her waist so hard it was nearly painful. "That...might not be the best idea..."

She continued to move her lips around the shell of his ear and loved the way he ducked to give her better access. "Why's that?" she asked, her voice husky as she nibbled gently.

"_God_," he choked out, the rough quality of his voice causing a thrill to pass through Rose's entire body. He pulled her tighter to him and began fluttering his lips against her neck. "Because...we'll never leave...and if we're going to do what I _think _we're about to do...we are _not _doing it in the shower..."

"Hmmm," she teased, gasping as he pressed his lips to the hollow of her throat. "There are a lot of quality things about that shower..."

"Don't tempt me," he murmured against her neck. "My self control was _stellar _up to this point. You are single handedly causing it to crumble little by little. And I do not want to shag you in the shower. _Well,_" He trailed off a bit, raising his head and grinning cheekily at her. "At least, not _yet_."

"Promises, promises," Rose teased once again, giving him one last gentle kiss before pushing him towards the ensuite. "It's all yours if you want it...just don't take too long..."

"Five minutes," he promised with a quick kiss before ducking into the small room and shutting the door behind him.

Rose let out a shuddering breath and ran her hands over her flushed face. While she would have been thrilled to keep kissing John, she was grateful for the few minutes to gather her wits. She moved to the dresser and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her lips were bright, swollen, and shining, her cheeks were pink, and her hair was in complete disarray. She grinned and realized that she looked thoroughly snogged. Rose had her share of boyfriends and had never thought much about the debauched, disheveled look a thorough kissing session gave her, but she found she didn't mind it. Especially as it was John doing the snogging.

She paced a bit as she listened to the shower running, still debating whether or not to just strip down and join him. But, with further thought, she knew he was right. As fantastic as she knew it would be, she didn't want their first time to be in a shower. She wanted him in bed, above her, so that she could watch his face as he came apart.

Rose shivered at the thought, and silently willed John to finish cleaning up _soon._

As if reading her mind, the shower shut off. She sat on the edge of the bed and tried to arrange herself attractively, finally giving up when she heard the door to the ensuite open up and she couldn't stop herself from watching John as he exited.

Her breath caught. He hadn't dressed back in his clothes from the show, not that she had really expected him to, but the sight of him in just a towel, droplets of water still clinging to his skin, hair damp and smelling better than any man had a right to smell made her mouth go dry and her heart start racing in her chest.

John reached up with one hand to scratch the back of his neck in discomfort. "Erm...I _may _not have thought this thing through entirely..."

Rose grinned and pushed off the bed, moving towards him and completely focused on the sight of him mostly-naked in front of her. He was slim, definitely not muscled like his bandmates, but it fit him. He was lithe and graceful and moved so elegantly when he danced that it seemed like second nature. His pale chest was dotted with just enough chest hair to be attractive, and his tastefully-muscled abdomen featured a dark trail just below his navel that was begging to be explored.

Rose watched him gulp as she approached and she wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing herself close to him as she took her time kissing up his neck, paying close attention to his Adam's apple. She felt a shudder run through his entire body at the contact. One hand found her hair, the other gripped at her hip as he whispered her name.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly. "Because I have to tell you now, there's no turning back. If we do this...I can't go back to just being your friend. Because I'm crazy about you. Really, properly mad for you and..."

"John," Rose whispered, gently guiding his face down to meet hers. She whispered, "I'm sure," against his lips before kissing him once more. He sighed and wrapped her in his arms, pulling her against him and Rose found her hands drifting to trace along the edge of his towel.

He shivered under her touch and the motion made the warmth that had been pooling in her stomach to flare. Before she lost her nerve, she found where the towel was tucked in and separated the rough material, letting it drift to the floor.

* * *

John collapsed, panting, and Rose's fingers immediately found their way into his hair. He wasn't heavy, and she welcomed the feel of every inch of their skin pressed together as he fluttered kisses against her neck and she ran her fingers through the damp, silky strands. They didn't say anything, both were quiet as their breaths slowed to a normal pace.

John broke away from her reluctantly but softened the action with a sweet, lazy grin and Rose returned the expression. She was loathe to separate from him, but also realized he had to clean up before he softened completely inside of her. She rolled onto her side as he took care of the condom quickly and turned back to her, his eyes sparkling.

"Hello," he murmured, cupping her cheek and pulling her in for a deep kiss.

"Hello," she replied, still grinning, against his lips.

"Not a bad way to end the night..."

"Not bad at all. I think you may have found a new post-concert ritual."

"A brilliant one at that." He smiled brilliantly at her before letting out a huge yawn. "And far more efficient. Blimey, I'm exhausted."

"Me, too," Rose whispered, covering his hand with hers. "Will you stay?"

John's smile widened and was bright enough to light up the room. "Oh, yes," he said, leaning in for another kiss.

He got up to flick at the light switch, casting the room into darkness as Rose wriggled her way underneath the blankets. He joined her quickly and curled around her, both of them still blissfully naked, him pressing soft kisses to the back of her neck and her shoulders, warmth suffusing her as her eyes slipped shut.

"Good night, John," she murmured, feeling safer and more content than she'd ever felt in her entire existence.

He tightened his grip on her and she was able to make out, just as she was drifting off, his whisper-soft reply.

"Good night, Rose Tyler."


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you to callistawolf and kahki for knocking out betas so fast here! As usual, the full version of this chapter can be found on my livejournal (username: onabearskinrug) or my tumblr (for real this time :-D...username is ainfraidanoghosts)**

**Thank you for the awesome reviews!**

Sarah Jane always made it a habit to arrive at work early, nearly an hour before the rest of her staff did. She used that time to drink her coffee, catch up on emails, and plan her schedule before the madness of the work day began. She relished the quiet time, a commodity that was so rare in her home life, that she nearly groaned out loud when she saw Reinette perched outside of her office with a murderous expression on her face.

"Reinette," she greeted, not bothering to keep the annoyance out of her voice as she unlocked her office. "You're here early. Is there something I can help you with?"

Rather than respond, Reinette pulled something from her handbag as Sarah Jane flipped on the lights and settled at her desk. Before Sarah Jane could even turn on her computer, Reinette tossed a periodical in front of her and stood with her arms folded.

"I thought you'd like to see what your precious field reporter is up to," she told her, a bitter tone to her voice that surprised Sarah Jane.

She glanced at the tabloid in front of her, the headline of "HAS JOHN SMITH FOUND LOVE?" assaulting her eyes. Directly underneath was a grainy concert photo and, despite the low-quality of the image, it was unmistakable that John was on one knee, beaming up at her reporter and holding her hand while Rose smiled quite goofily back at him. Sarah Jane had to bite her lip to keep her own grin from blooming across her face. They seemed completely besotted with one another, and it warmed Sarah Jane's heart to see Rose look so happy.

"So...what's the problem, Reinette?" Sarah Jane asked, glancing up at the fuming blonde. "Rose is doing exactly what I asked of her. She's getting in the thick of things, really getting to know the group."

Reinette began sputtering. "Well...don't you think...this is a bit..._unprofessional? _I mean, _throwing _herself at one of the Vortex Boys like this? She's going to give _Smash Hits _a horrible reputation!"

"I've only heard complimentary things from their manager," she replied calmly. "Everyone, is impressed with Rose's level of professionalism, including the members of the band. She's been sending me daily reports and drafts and we're right on schedule with the story. What she does on her own time is not really any of our business."

Reinette was practically fuming by now. "How do we know she isn't just..._using _John to get dirt for her exposé?"

Sarah Jane's eyes narrowed. "How did you know that she'd been planning an exposé?"

Immediately, Reinette flushed and wouldn't meet her eyes. "Oh, she...erm...told me about it. Before she left. I tried to talk her out of it, Sarah Jane, it wouldn't put _Smash Hits _in a very good light..."

"Hmmm..." she said softly. It was obvious Reinette was lying, and it wasn't really in Rose's character to share information with the other woman. She knew they weren't exactly close, and the fact that she'd herself had to practically beat the information out of Rose...well, Sarah Jane filed the information away for future reference. "Rose and I chatted a few days ago. She assured me that the exposé was off the table."

"And you believed her?"

"Of course I did," Sarah Jane huffed. "I know my staff, Reinette, and I would appreciate it if you didn't question my judgement."

Reinette looked chastised. "Of course, I'm sorry, Sarah Jane..."

"I appreciate your concern," she continued. "But I will deal with Rose. In the meantime, you have a piece due today. I suggest you use the extra time in the office to work on it. Our Editor-In-Chief has complained that your work has dropped in quality over the last few weeks. I don't want to hear that from him again, you understand?"

She flushed. "Yes, Sarah Jane. Thank you for taking the time to listen to my concerns."

"Anytime, Reinette. My door is always open, you know that."

She nodded and left the office. As soon as she was out of sight, Sarah Jane sighed deeply and pulled out the bottle of paracetamol she kept in a desk drawer. She could already feel the headache building, and it was barely half eight in the morning.

After downing the pills with a sip from her water bottle, she picked up her office phone and dialed the familiar number. Despite her defending Rose to Reinette, she wanted to hear the story for herself, make sure Rose's judgement was clear and that she would be able to continue on the story without conflict.

* * *

Rose awoke from a deep sleep when the bed dipped next to her and a warm body slid beneath the covers and spooned up against her back. She let out a quiet hum of contentment as a now-familiar hand began lazily tracing up and down her side.

"Morning," John whispered in her ear, placing a gentle kiss there before moving his lips to trace down the curve of her neck. "Sleep well?"

"Mmmmhmmm," Rose murmured, stretching and pressing her body back against him.

"Hmm...good morning indeed," Rose teased, rolling over to face him. She curled into his side and sighed happily, resting her head on his shoulder.

He chuckled and wrapped his arm around her, tugging her closer and dropping a kiss to her hair. "Quite extraordinary in fact."

"I don't even know what time it is," she told him, glancing around the room before realizing that the clock was behind her and opting instead to remain snuggled in John's arms.

"It's still early," he replied. "Barely half-eight."

Rose was about to ask why he had woken up so early when her mobile began to buzz from the nightstand. Rose groaned and rolled over, recognizing Sarah Jane's office number on the screen.

"My editor," she told him, turning back towards John and sliding the phone open to answer the call. "Morning, Sarah Jane!"

John nodded and gestured towards the ensuite. Rose nodded back as he stood up from the bed and stretched. She couldn't contain her smile as she admired his lean, bare form in the early morning light. He was gorgeous. He caught her staring and shot her a charming grin before disappearing around the corner.

"Rose? Are you there?"

"Hmm? Oh, sorry, Sarah Jane, what were you saying?"

"Oh, nothing, just that you sound chipper this morning."

Rose grinned to herself. "No more than usual. Everything all right?"

"Well, I saw your picture in the _Enquirer_..." Sarah Jane began casually. "Just...thought I'd see if you have anything to tell me."

"Rose, what do you fancy for breakfast?" John's voice called out as he exited the ensuite and came into view, back in his pants and vest from the night before and grinning as he slid into place next to her.

"Who is _that_?" Sarah Jane asked, with what Rose sincerely hoped was a smile in her voice.

Rose turned to John and pressed her finger to his lips, unable to stifle her grin as he kissed the digit and lounged attractively on the pillows.

"No one...so, why was my picture in the _Enquirer_?" Rose asked, trying to focus on the conversation.

"Well, you were being serenaded by one of The Vortex Boys. You two looked a bit pleased at the fact, too."

"I was serenaded by all The Vortex Boys, but I suppose the tabloid forgot to print that part," she told her editor. "It was just a bit of fun."

John pouted a bit at her words, and Rose smoothed her thumb across his lips with a smile.

"You seem like you're enjoying yourself there," Sarah Jane continued. "I just...want to make sure you won't have any problems with the story. That there aren't any distractions or anything clouding your judgement."

Rose started a bit. "What do you mean by that, Sarah Jane?"

Her editor sighed. "Rose, all of your notes seem to focus on John. He dominates our conversations. And to be honest, I can even hear in your voice that he lights you up. I just...want to be sure that you're going into this with your eyes open."

Rose sighed, unable to tear her eyes away from John's reclined form. "I appreciate it, Sarah Jane, I do. And...things are good." She couldn't stop the grin from blossoming over her face, a grin that John returned. "Things are really, _really _good."

"Well, then, all I expect is that your work won't suffer," Sarah Jane told her brusquely before her tone turned warm. "And we'll have to all get together when you and the boys come to London."

Rose laughed. "It's our last stop on the tour, it won't be for two months yet."

"So you've got lots of time to prepare him," she replied. "You sound happy, Rose. Really. Just...be careful."

"I will," Rose promised. "Thanks, Sarah Jane. We'll talk at the end of the day?"

"The end of the day," Sarah Jane agreed. "Give John my regards."

Rose blushed, but couldn't keep the smile off her face. "Sarah Jane sends her regards," she told him, holding the phone slightly away from her mouth.

"My regards back to the lovely Sarah Jane," he replied, not bothering to keep his voice low, and Rose heard her boss laugh in response before bidding her a good day and disconnecting the call.

* * *

Reinette was practically seeing red as she disconnected the conference line. So, Rose Tyler thought that she was worthy of John Smith's affections. Everything she had read in the papers about them, the pair often being seen in one another's company and barely able to keep hands to themselves, was true. And now he was unmistakably in her room first thing in the bloody morning, asking her what she wanted for breakfast...

Reinette huffed. John Smith needed someone like...well, like _her._ Someone refined, someone from a good family. She knew that, despite her success at New York University, Rose Tyler had grown up on a council estate with a chavvy bottle blonde for a mother. Reinette was descended from French nobility. John Smith wouldn't have looked _twice _at Rose if she had been standing next to Reinette.

She drew in a deep breath, calming down and gathering her thoughts. They'd be here in two months. Reinette would have to make sure she was invited along to whatever gathering Rose and Sarah Jane were planning, and she'd make John Smith know once and for all what he was missing out on.

* * *

John and Rose made it down to the hotel breakfast eventually, several long kisses and a mad dash back to his room for a clean set of clothes later. The rest of the band and crew were already there, having been ushered into one of the smaller conference rooms to keep the fans and paparazzi at bay. When John and Rose entered, it was to catcalls and whistles that caused them both to blush brilliantly and head directly to the buffet table. Rose was ravenous, and she filled her plate and glass before John grabbed her hand and led them to the table.

"You two look...well rested," Mickey offered with grin.

"Tested the merchandise, I imagine," Jack told them.

John cleared his throat as he pulled out her chair, offering her a small, intimate smile as she met his eyes. She smiled back and sat down, John immediately grasping her free hand as he took his place next to her.

"You two are so cute," Jack said, immediately turning his focus on John and grilling for details.

Rose rolled her eyes and turned to Rory, who was engrossed in his laptop, occasionally taking a bite from his plate as he scrolled through what seemed to be real estate listings.

"Are you looking for a place in London?" Rose asked excitedly, leaning towards Rory and ignoring Jack's pleading for John to kiss and tell.

"Hmm?" Rory asked, turning towards Rose. "Oh, no, I've got a flat there already. I'd like to buy my mum a house. She wants to be closer, and we spend so much time in London that it'd be great for her to have her own place."

"Oh, Rory!" Rose exclaimed, squeezing his arm affectionately. "That's so sweet of you!"

He grinned. "Thanks. So, what do you think of these? Are they good areas?"

"Oh, yeah, they're perfect," she replied, squinting at the tasteful, modest listings on the screen.

"What are the mortgage rates like right now?" Rory asked. "I don't know if you own a place or what, but I guess you'd know better than I would, living there and all..."

Rose glanced back at him from the screen, confused. "They're...not bad. I've been looking at buying a flat myself. But...I don't mean to be rude or anything, but why would you get a mortgage right now? Makes more sense to buy something outright and it would save you in the long run..."

Rory chuckled. "Yeah, that'd be the day. Buying a place in London outright would clean me out!"

"Tell me about it," Mickey offered, apparently overhearing their conversation. "My flat just took about two thirds of my account. Wish I'd gotten a mortgage now!"

Rose stared at them, confused. They had sold nearly 15 million albums, were making appearances galore, putting on concerts nearly every night, working fifteen hour days 6 days per week. There should have been no question about whether Rory could afford a house for his mum. Mickey's flat should never have depleted his account, and Rose felt a gnawing concern growing. There was something not right about the entire situation, and anger suddenly flared in her chest at the thought of someone taking advantage of her boys.

She gripped John's hand in hers and he turned towards her at the gesture, giving her a sweet smile and squeezing her hand back.

She spent the rest of breakfast slightly distracted, a plan forming in her head to ensure that whoever was trying to pull the wool over their eyes would _not _get away with it for much longer.


	7. Chapter 7

**This chapter had to be dragged out of me kicking and screaming. Thank you to kahki for knocking out a beta so fast and to all my favorite ladies for keeping me sane and talking me through the ending :-)**

**I'm sorry...I'm so, SO sorry ;-)**

The weeks passed in a blur of work, music, concerts, rehearsals, dancing, long nights in John's arms and her first experience trying to shag on a tiny, enclosed bunk on a moving tour bus. The space wasn't half bad for sleeping, feeling as though they were completely cut off and in their own little universe, but shagging ended up being a bit more difficult and caused a fair amount of unnecessary bruising. Still, John was a quick study, and they managed to find optimal positioning rather quickly, and it was well-worth the incessant teasing they received in the morning.

She sometimes found it hard to believe how close she'd become to John and the rest of the group in such a short period of time, everyone loosening up more now that she and John were together. She learned in a deep, close conversation with Jack that he was actually pansexual and head-over-heels in love with Ianto, their catering manager. She learned that Martha and Mickey had been seeing each other for quite some time, and Amy and Rory had been together for _years _and were actually engaged. Donna was aware of the relationships, but they had to keep the information close to the group. Harold Saxon had told them, when asked about their relationships to always answer noncommittally. Seeming available was important, but John promised Rose (as everyone in the group promised their significant others) that he would never outrightly lie.

Adam, on the other hand, was a completely different story altogether. He'd always been friendly and flirty, but was also a bit of a partier. Rose grew concerned for his health after the first two months, as he spent most nights drinking in excess and causing headaches for the record label press reps. He'd been harmlessly flirting with her the entire tour, even after she and John had made it known that they were together, but everything finally came to a head while they were celebrating a particularly brilliant performance in Dublin. He'd had a few drinks and made a rather physical, drunken pass at Rose. Upon seeing this, John's expression had turned stormy and he'd basically manhandled Adam back to his room. In the aftermath of that uncomfortable scene, Rose begged a still-fuming John to help her talk Adam into seeking help. It took a heart-to-heart between the three of them over coffee and muffins to convince him to try an AA meeting.

Still, Rose hadn't spent all of her time socializing and saving young boy band members from themselves. She'd also spent the weeks discreetly gathering information and asking innocent questions about Harold Saxon and MasterWorks Entertainment. It was difficult, as she didn't want to let on to John what she was doing until she had some concrete evidence. And as most of their free time was spent in each other's presence, Rose had learned to use her time to the fullest. She had two regular opportunities to research and make liberal use of NYU's databases, generally when John dropped off soon after making love or when he was engrossed in composing.

The more information Rose gathered, the more she was convinced that something was going on with the record label. Saxon managed several groups, all very similar and formed through open auditions just like the Vortex Boys. From what she understood, MasterWorks was incredibly successful, to the point that Harold Saxon was in the middle of constructing a 5,000 square foot estate and had just purchased a vacation home on the Amalfi Coast. The company jet had gotten a recent upgrade and they were expanding their state-of-the-art recording studios.

And her lovely, sweet Rory was having doubts about affording a house for his mother. Rose's instincts were screaming at her that something was very, _very _wrong, but she needed a look around Harold Saxon's file cabinet to confirm her suspicions. And in order to achieve that, she needed a plan.

She got her opportunity when they returned to London, a bit more than two months after she and John had gotten together. There was an excited air among the group, it seemed like everyone called London "home". They all exited the busses and went in different directions, finally able to return to their respective flats for a day of rest before their final concert and starting work on their Christmas album the next day. Rose would be going with them to the studio, ostensibly to give the readers a "sneak peek" of what was next for The Vortex Boys, but mainly so she could sneak off and do a little investigating.

She spent the day at John's flat, opening the windows so the warm, late-summer breeze would air out the stuffy space. It was a great apartment, with an open floor plan and two bedrooms, but it was...impersonal. John had told her how he found it, buying it with the insurance and inheritance from his parents' estate. His family had been lost in a house fire in his first year at uni, and he'd admitted to her that he had yet to find a place that really felt like "home."

The flat was sparsely decorated and didn't seem at all like John. The only personal touch she found was in the spare bedroom, which housed several different musical instruments, keyboards, and computers set up in a home composition studio. He admitted he'd been working on the collection since university and he was quite proud of the set-up. Rose had turned to him, her heart swelling at the fact that he was willing to share this with her, and kissed him firmly.

After taking an opportunity to make love on a surface that wasn't moving or covered in ugly paisley, where they could be as noisy as they wanted since John had taken great care to soundproof the rooms, they briefly napped in what Rose thought was the greatest bed she'd ever felt in her life. She wasn't sure if she'd just spent too many nights in hotels or if it was the fact that John was welcoming her into his private space, but she found it difficult to wake up even after two hours of a deep sleep.

They shared a shower, making the most of their alone time. The boys were staying in London for a few months to work on the album, and Rose realized as John was gently shampooing her hair how much she was looking forward to being able to do things like this on a regular basis. Not only with John, but with everyone. She was excited for plans of Friday night dinners at alternating flats, to going out dancing, there had even been talk of karaoke once a month.

She also realized how ready she was to move out of her mum's flat and into a space of her own, and Rose scoured the paper while they were having lunch. John's flat was lovely, but Rose didn't think it would be appropriate to entertain him at her mum's place. At least, not in the way she could.._.entertain _him in the privacy of her own home.

"Whatcha looking at there?" John asked as he took a bite of his sandwich.

"Real estate," she replied, taking her red pen and circling a few prospective ads. "Last few months have made a nice little addition to my down payment, figured I'd start looking around."

He went quiet, and Rose glanced up from the paper at the uncharacteristic silence. "You all right?"

"Hmm? Oh, right, I'm fine...it's just..." He began fiddling with the crisps on his plate. "You know...you could just stay...here?"

His voice sounded so hopeful that Rose's heart swelled. "John..."

"No, really...I'm not around much anyway. And we've spent every day together for the past three months and it's been lovely and...well..." He swallowed and finally met her gaze, his brown eyes swimming with so much emotion that her breath caught. "It would make this place feel more like home and...I think...that I'd really like having you to come home to."

Rose couldn't answer at first, trying to wrap her brain around what he was saying. Did he...just ask her to move in? With him? To live in his flat, to spend every night they were in the same city in _their home_?

She couldn't deny how _wonderful _it sounded. A smile spread across her face against her will, and even though they'd only known each other for three months, the idea held more merit than she would admit out loud.

Still, she'd been down this path before, moved in with her college boyfriend too quickly. John was too important to her, she couldn't make the same mistake again. She wanted to take things at a good pace, really get to know each other sitting still in London before she made any decisions.

Rose wasn't saying "no." She didn't _want _to say no. But she _did _decide to say "not now."

She grinned at him teasingly, reaching across the small table to take his hand. "Ask me again after you've seen my shoe collection, yeah?"

His answering smile was luminous. "Deal."

The performance that night went off without a hitch, every small detail was perfect and the energy from the crowd was incredible. John greeted Rose after the closing number with his usual sweaty, twirly embrace-and-snog combination. Jack, as usual, tucked a few colorful packets in John's pocket with a grin and a wink and they made full use of them in his flat that night.

They all met at MasterWorks Studios the next morning and Rose was relieved when Donna told them Mr. Saxon wouldn't be in for their meeting that day, as he had some business in Spain he needed to tend to but would be joining them via video chat. She left John and the rest of the group in with Donna for the meeting, John giving her a brief kiss and imploring her not to wander off.

Not one to take instruction well, Rose turned the moment Donna shut the door and went off in search for Harold Saxon's office.

The studios took up two floors of a London skyscraper, the lower floor home to the recording studios and the upper of the offices. She needed a special access code to get into either space, but she didn't think she'd need to go into the recording studios. Most of the information would likely be in Saxon's office. She just had to get past the secretary and into his files.

It didn't take long to locate the office, prominently placed in the center of everything against a back wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. Rose was startled when the desk outside his door was empty. His secretary wasn't where she was supposed to be...in fact, there was no indication she'd been in at all that day. Her computer wasn't switched on, nothing was out of place on the desk...

Rose shook her head as she came to the realization about Mr. Saxon's "business" in Spain. He really was more of a slimeball than she gave him credit for. She wondered if his wife, Lucy, knew what he was up to.

"Miss Rose?"

Rose gasped and spun around, clutching at her racing heart. One of the group's security guards, Lonnie, stood behind her with his arms crossed and a curious expression on his face.

"Lonnie, don't scare me like that!"

"Sorry, luv," he replied with a smile, relaxing his posture a bit. "John just asked me to keep an eye on you is all. Did you get lost? Or are you looking for Mr. Saxon?"

"Oh, well..." she stammered. "I've...got some...paperwork...for Mr. Saxon but his secretary doesn't seem to be here, and..."

"What sort of paperwork?"

"Oh, it's...just..."

"Miss Rose, the cameras don't have any sound."

"What?"

"The cameras, they only take video. You can tell me what's going on."

Rose sighed and stepped close to Lonnie, taking a file folder out of her bag and pretending to show it to him. It was her cover for getting into the office, containing a sheet of questions for her article. "I'm thinking there's something going on with Mr. Saxon. I think he's pulling something over on the boys. I just need a few minutes in his office."

"Miss Rose..."

"Lonnie, I don't want your job to be in danger. Just go back to wherever you were and act like you and I never talked."

"I can get you five minutes in there," he replied. "If you think there's something going on, I can go distract the guard in the security office. Just wait a few minutes. Answer your mobile or something. And be in and out fast."

"You don't have to do that..." Rose began to protest.

"I also don't want anybody thinking they can get away with that stuff. This band is good people. And I'm supposed to protect them."

Rose smiled and squeezed the large, muscular man's hand. "Thank you. I really appreciate it."

He nodded and turned down the hall, Rose immediately digging her mobile out of her bag and pushing a few buttons, listening to the voicemail but nodding as if she were having a conversation. After about three minutes had past, she moved carefully over to Mr. Saxon's door and tried the knob.

Locked, of course. He wouldn't be stupid enough to leave his office accessible. Carefully, Rose reached up into her hair and pulled out a pin. John had complimented her style that morning, two French braids that left a few pieces of her layered style looser around her face. She'd pinned these pieces up, and was glad for the fact now. She slid the tiny piece of metal into the lock and wiggled it, just as her Dad had showed her when she was a kid. It didn't take more than a few seconds for the door to pop open and Rose to make her way inside.

The office was clean, sterile, and impersonal, with some generic artwork on the walls, a sofa, and a very impressive, decorative oak desk. There were two locked filing cabinets and a few drawers in his desk that would probably contain the information she needed, and she wasted no time in jimmying the locks and sifting through the folders.

She didn't actually read what she found, she didn't have the time to spare. Anything she could get her hands on regarding The Vortex Boys group or and of the individual members was photographed with her mobile and tucked back away so no one would be the wiser. She'd look at the individual pages when she got a bit of privacy. For now, she just needed the information in hand.

She'd gotten through both file cabinets when she finally checked her watch and saw only about one minute remained of her five. Quickly, she put everything right and scribbled a quick note to leave on Mr. Saxon's desk, requesting an interview for the article and offering her desk phone number. She also left the manila folder and, her cover for being in his office fully in place, exited the room, the door locking automatically behind her.

She managed to get back to the waiting area before the meeting was over and pulled out her laptop, ensuring that she looked appropriately busy by the time they boys and Donna exited the room. John greeted her with a kiss and they spent the rest of the afternoon in the recording studio perfecting a gorgeous, a cappella version of _Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas. _It nearly brought tears to her eyes, the way their voices were blending together and the clear emotion that was shining through in their voices. It was odd, to be hearing a Christmas song in the middle of August, but it put a bounce in her step that carried on even as the six of them headed out to pick up Martha and Amy. They were meeting Sarah Jane and Lynda for dinner at Rose's favorite pub, and Rose was almost unreasonably excited to share a little bit of her life with her new favorite people.

They eight of them walked in, John's arm around her waist as he whispered something ridiculous in her ear about the fit of her jeans. She was giggling as she scanned the room, seeing Sarah Jane and Lynda at a large, rectangular table with somewhat sour expressions on their faces.

Rose was about to call out when Sarah Jane raised an arm in a half-hearted wave. Her stomach sank when the crowd parted and she noticed the likely reason for their dour moods.

Reinette, dressed to the nines and perfectly put together, gave the group an excited, toothy grin and waved daintily at Rose and John.

Reinette's breath caught when she saw John Smith. He was even more gorgeous in person, even with his trademark hair hidden beneath a baseball cap and dressed casually in jeans, Converse sneakers, and a deep blue henley beneath a pinstriped blazer. The picture would have been perfect had his beauteous smile not been directed at Rose bloody Tyler.

The rest of the group had come in behind her, Rory with his arm around a gorgeous, stylish ginger and Mickey with a beautiful dark-skinned woman, both of whom she didn't recognize. Jack and Adam were solo, and Reinette's heart fluttered a bit at the sight of Adam, her second-favorite Vortex Boy, wearing an unbuttoned Oxford under his leather jacket and a few tasteful gold chains, one had a huge medallion of a scorpion on the end.

_Of course he's a Scorpio, _Reinette thought. _Very, very sexy._

Still, with her _favorite_ Vortex Boy was within reach, she couldn't spare Adam a second thought. She focused on Rose, who was dressed casually in jeans and a tank top with trainers, a light sweater draped over one arm. She didn't hold a candle to Reinette's look, and she felt a smug sense of satisfaction at how quickly John would be putty in her hands. She had, of course, known that they would all be meeting tonight. She had overheard the phone call between Rose and Sarah Jane, and she'd conveniently shown up knowing Sarah Jane was too polite not to invite her to sit with them. Reinette had gone all out on her outfit, pulling out her favorite Louboutin pumps and a low-cut, lace camisole with a sweetheart neckline to go with her tight, skinny cropped trousers and black blazer. She'd pulled her hair up off her face and had _very _definite plans to peel off the blazer when it simply grew too warm in the room to wear it.

In fact, it seemed to be the perfect time, now that Rose had spotted her and the wide smile on her face had faded. She stood up and waved, waiting for John to glance in their direction so she could strip out of the garment slowly, but he seemed to be distracted by the bottle blonde next to him. Reinette tried not to retch at the sight of John's fingers surreptitiously tucking underneath Rose's tank top and stroking the skin he found there. The frown on her face faded immediately faded and she turned to give him a huge, simpering smile and led the group over to their table.

Reinette frowned. Could they have _been _any more _uncouth_?

"Lynda, Sarah Jane!" Rose said when they made it to the table. "Reinette."

Always remembering her manners, Reinette extended her hand. "Rose, it's been so long! You're looking well! And who are your friends?"

"Oh, come on, Reinette, don't be daft!" Lynda said with a huge grin. "Hi, I'm Lynda, Rose's friend. Nice to meet you guys!"

"And this is Sarah Jane," Rose offered. "My editor I've told you guys so much about!"

"All good things I hope!" Sarah Jane replied, stretching out her hand in greeting. "Sarah Jane Smith, nice to meet you all!"

"This is Jack, Mickey, Martha, Rory, Amy, Adam and _this,_" she said, squeezing John's hand and beaming at him. Reinette fought not to roll her eyes. "This is John Smith. My, erm..." She glanced up at John, unsure, and he offered a small smile in return. He wanted to see how she would introduce him. "...my..._boyfriend._"

His smile stretched into a full-blown grin. Reinette felt her mouth go into a pout, but felt a little thrill when she noticed Adam's gaze zero in on her.

_Maybe the night won't be a complete waste after all_, she thought, smiling at him prettily and peeling off her blazer, enjoying Adam nearly going cross-eyed at the gesture.

Despite Adam's obvious attentions, Reinette felt her mood grow more and more sour as the night went on. John was _completely uninterested _in anything she said or did. He offered polite interest, certainly, but he and Rose were so wrapped up with each other that there was no pulling his attention away.

After what felt like her millionth giggle and eyelash flutter, Reinette decided she had to up her game if she wanted to attract John's attention. She got her chance when Rose and Jack went to play darts and John leaned back against the bar, watching them with a small smile on his face.

"Hello," she offered politely. "Are you having a good time?"

"Yes, thanks," John replied, and Reinette thrilled a bit at having his attention on her.

"Hmmm, they're awfully close, aren't they?" she mused innocently, gesturing a bit towards Jack and Rose. Jack was standing behind her, their hands holding the same dart as Jack demonstrated the proper hold and throw.

"Hmm, I suppose so," he replied, taking a sip from his pint of lager. "Jack's a bit..._touchy-feely. _Something I've come to accept the hard way."

Reinette huffed. _Nothing _she was doing was working. He was mad about Rose, it was obvious. There had to be something, some weakness in their relationship that she could exploit, make him see that Rose just wasn't right for him.

A thought suddenly occurred to her, a scathingly brilliant idea that had a smile creeping over her face. She chose her words carefully and deliberately, hoping that her instinct was true and that Rose had kept one tiny detail from him.

"She sure seems happy," Reinette offered. "You too."

"Yeah," he turned to her with a grin. "She's brilliant."

"I'm glad she gave up on the idea of that exposé," she said deliberately.

She could tell she'd struck a nerve. John tensed next to her and he turned slowly, one eyebrow raised in question. "Sorry?"

"Ohhhh," she said, feigning apology as she clapped her hand over her mouth. "I guess she didn't tell you..."

"Exposé?" he asked slowly.

"Why would she have done that?" Reinette mused innocently. "Unless...well...maybe she _didn't _give up on the idea?"

John didn't reply but his face had grown cold, his eyes were dark, and his mouth drawn so tight that she could barely see his beautiful, pouty lips.

"You two should talk," Reinette told him softly, squeezing his arm. She dug a pen out of her purse and scribbled her mobile number on a napkin. "I'm here...if you need anything, okay?"

John didn't pay her any attention. Instead, he pushed off the bar and was striding over to where Jack and Rose were putting on some kind of ridiculous dance. His movements were so quick that Reinette actually jumped back a bit in surprise. As he approached the pair, she watched with barely-contained glee as Rose's face lit up briefly at the sight of him before furrowing in concern at his expression.

"Ooh, trouble in paradise," a familiar voice next to her said gently.

Reinette reluctantly turned her head away from the show and smiled at Adam. "I suppose."

"You, ah...wanna get out of here?"

Reinette turned back to John and Rose, both of them looking tense and strained. He grabbed her by the elbow and glanced around, leading her out of the pub through a side door. It seemed she was going to miss the show anyway, and there was no real reason to stay anymore. Reinette turned to Adam and gave him a slow, seductive smile as she reached over to take hold of his arm.

"I think that sounds like a lovely idea."

Rose whooped as her dart hit the board, far away from the target but at least it wasn't the wall...or a person. She turned around to face Jack and they high-fived, grinning like loons and proceeded to do the funky little victory dance they'd choreographed nearly a month before.

She was mid-spin when she saw John coming towards them. Her face automatically broke out into a grin at the sight of him, but she felt her heart start to pound out a panicked rhythm once she registered his expression. His eyes were dark, his brow furrowed, his mouth pulled tight. He looked _furious._

"John," she asked, moving towards him. "What's happened, what's wrong?"

"We need to talk," he said, grasping onto her elbow.

"Okay," she said as he guided her out of a side exit into the humid summer night. The streets were full of people enjoying the warm summer weather, and he had to tug her practically into an alley to get a little bit of privacy.

He dropped her arm immediately and turned away from her, shoulders tense as he took in a deep, shuddering breath. Rose was beginning to panic. She had no idea what could have happened in the time between when she and Jack had gone to play darts and they'd exited the pub to make him feel this way, and she was desperate to know so she could work on making it better.

"John," she murmured softly, stepping forward and placing a hand gently on his shoulder.

"Don't," he snapped, shrugging away and spinning around to face her. His expression was thunderous. "Don't use any more of your investigative tactics on me."

Rose blinked, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Is this all we were?" he gestured between them, his eyes looking suspiciously damp. "Everything we've shared, everything we've done? You were only with me to get all the juicy details for your _exposé_?"

Rose felt her jaw drop and all of the blood drain from her face. Her hands began to shake. _How _had he found out?

"John, it's not what you think..."

"What is it then, Rose?" he barreled on, voice rising. "You told me you wanted to be a reporter, I just didn't realize it was going to happen like _this. _So, what, now that you've got everything you need are you just going to turn around and stab us all in the back?"

"It's not like that!" she protested, following him as he paced. "The story hasn't been on the table for _months! _I won't deny that I was thinking about it in the beginning, before I really knew you, but I'd given up on it before anything happened between us, before we'd even _kissed!_"

"Why didn't you tell me about it then?" he asked, his voice hitching on the next words. "How can I trust you now? For all I know you've got a recorder going right now! You gonna tell the whole world about Jack, too? About Rory and Amy? How about what it's like to shag John Smith? Everyone is _dying _to know!"

"Listen to me!" she implored, practically screeching as she caught his arm and tugged him to face her. "I don't know what you heard but I _swear, _the story is _gone! _I've only been working on my assignment from Sarah Jane for over two months! I couldn't do it, John, not once I realized how much I lo-"

"No!" John cut her off and pulled his arm out of her grasp angrily, his voice thick with emotion. "You don't get to say that! Not _ever! _It doesn't mean anything, not from you."

"How can you _say _that?" Rose cried, the tears finally spilling over.

John stiffened. "Maybe because you're just one of many, Rose. One of many that we thought we could trust and who only wanted us for their own gain. Well done you, though, no one else has gotten me into bed before. Keep this up and you'll end up with a Pulitzer some day."

His icy words cut through her chest. The physical blow was so intense that she actually had to grasp at her chest to attempt to alleviate some of the pain. She'd never before realized just how badly words could _hurt, _but they did, so much that she nearly had to gasp for air.

"John," she pleaded, turning her watery gaze on his once more. "Please, listen to me..."

"I think I've listened to enough these past few months," he snapped. "I'm done listening. Enjoy your success."

He turned and walked down the street, ignoring Rose sobbing his name, pleading with him to come back. When he finally turned a corner and was out of sight, Rose broke down. She leaned against the brick wall behind her and couldn't keep herself upright any longer. She felt the fabric of her shirt scrape against the rough surface, as she slid to the ground, letting everything out until there was nothing left.


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you all for your wonderful reviews! Unless there's a major plot bunny attack, there will only be one chapter after this. I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have!**

Rose had a difficult time getting out of bed that weekend.

If someone had told her three years ago that a man she'd been dating barely two months would dump her and she would spend two days hiding beneath her duvet she would have laughed in their face. But here she was, curled under her blanket, her face wet and her hair tangled, her mum tapping softly at the door and offering tea, biscuits, chip, long talks, vodka, wine...anything that she hoped would draw Rose out of the misery she was feeling.

Rose finally pulled herself up on Monday morning, slapping at her alarm and not feeling remotely well-rested despite dozing off and on for two days. She didn't feel much up to getting out of bed, and if she was being honest with herself a week could have gone by before she even took notice of time passing. But she knew she had to go back to work. Work would distract her, keep her sane.

She took a shower and had a brief cry when the memories of her and John sharing one washed over her like a wave. She half-heartedly applied her make up before donning a knee-length denim skirt, cotton blouse, and a plain pair of espadrilles. She tied her still-damp hair into a haphazard bun and choked down some tea and toast just to appease her concerned mother. Jackie knew the whole story, she'd sat with Rose all of Saturday morning while she cried it out. She understood her mum's hovering and worries. After all, Rose had never gotten this worked up over a break-up.

But then, this wasn't exactly a break-up. This was more of a devastation.

She got to work on time and got her usual latte, the routine still familiar even after three months absent. The baristas all greeted her warmly and asked how she liked her summer. She smiled and replied politely, trying to keep the tears at bay and not let on that the hole in her chest was pulsing painfully with their every word.

She said a small good morning to the receptionist and made her way to her desk. She'd barely managed to put down her latte before Sarah Jane was peeking out of the office. "Rose? Welcome back! A word?"

"Of course," she replied blandly, leaving her coffee and following Sarah Jane into the small room. She gestured to one of the chairs and sat in her usual spot, the irony of the situation not lost on Rose. It was fitting that the scenes that both began and ended her adventure would mirror one another to such an extent.

Sarah Jane peered at her. "Are you all right, Rose? You don't look well, and you didn't answer your mobile all weekend. I was concerned after you and John left without saying good-bye on Friday..."

"My mobile?" Rose asked, pulling her phone from her skirt pocket. Of course, she'd turned it off when she'd gotten back to the flat and, though she'd grabbed it out of habit, she hadn't turned it back on. She pushed the little button and started at the dozens of text and voicemail notifications. "I'm sorry, Sarah Jane, I must have turned it off and forgotten..."

"What happened?"

She glanced back up at her editor, who was always professional but also kind and compassionate, someone Rose could consider a friend. She knew Sarah Jane would have never told John about the exposé, even in passing, nor would she have told anyone else. Sarah Jane had class and tact...something not all of her coworkers shared.

"I think...Reinette told John about the exposé I'd been planning..." Rose confided, tears gathering in her eyes just at the mention of his name.

"Oh, Rose!" Sarah Jane stood up and came around to her, wrapping Rose in her arms and stroking her hair gently. "I take it he didn't react well?"

"No, he didn't," she choked out, wiping the tears that were now leaking onto her cheeks. "I never told him about it. I'd given up on the idea, didn't think there was any reason to bring it up and now he'll never trust me again..."

"I'm sorry, love," Sarah Jane murmured, pulling away to hold her at arm's length. "You know, I've been wondering...did you share that information with her? That you were planning to write the exposé?"

"No, I never told her, and I know you wouldn't either."

"I wouldn't, and yet somehow, she knew..." Sarah Jane trailed off, brow furrowed in thought before she shook her head and regarded Rose once more. "I'm sorry I didn't warn you. She told me a few months ago..."

"Doesn't matter now," Rose said. She plucked a kleenex from the desk and dabbed at her eyes. "Not like it'll change anything."

"Rose," Sarah Jane told her gently. "John is obviously crazy about you. And you feel the same. You shouldn't give up something that important over a..._misunderstanding. _Talk to him, show him he can trust you. And don't forget, you have 2,500 words due in two weeks."

Rose gave her editor a watery chuckle and tried her best for a smile. "Yes, sir," she joked, squeezing Sarah Jane's hands. "Thank you. God, I must look like a drowned rat."

"A bit," she teased. "Go clean up, think about what you're going to say to John, and get to work. I need that draft by next Friday at nine AM."

"As if I could forget," Rose replied dryly.

Sarah Jane offered an affectionate squeeze of Rose's arm before she went back to her desk. Rose gave her boss a weak smile and left the office, pulling her mobile once more from her pocket and glancing through the texts. Her stomach churned unpleasantly at the long list from Jack, Sarah Jane, and Lynda and none from John. She switched over to her voicemail and saw much of the same.

She'd reached her desk at that point and turned on her computer, plugging her phone into the USB cord to keep it charging. A little dialogue box popped up, asking her where she wanted to save her new photos.

Some small part of her mind that had been shaken loose suddenly slid back into place. _The photos! Oh, I am so thick! _she thought, clicking and typing furiously to get them saved on her desktop. She set a password lock on the file before opening it quickly and perusing the documents she'd photographed Friday morning.

Most of the documents were boring and straightforward, merchandise proposals and even a movie deal that looked like it had been scrapped. Considering that it involved the Vortex Boys in skintight blue jumpsuits and cavorting through space, she thought that might have been a good decision on Saxon's part. She paged through the dozens of photos until she finally found something that caught her eye.

A page of each of the boys' contracts consisted of a breakdown of payments. It showed the initial investment on the part of Mr. Saxon and the repayment schedule. First of all, the number was unusually high. Rose didn't know much about the music business, but she did know that tens of millions of dollars was a great deal more than she'd seen the time she'd been working at _Smash Hits. _She also noticed that, after the initial investment was paid back, Harold Saxon would receive the same percentage of the record sales as each of the boys.

Rose _knew _that this was unusual. Managers generally had a flat cut of 10%. It seemed as though Harold Saxon was paying himself as a member of the group. As she flipped through the documents, she noticed that he was doing the same thing with merchandise, tour revenue, appearances, and several other aspects of the business. It was an obscene amount of money for one person, but the boys were most likely still paying on the investment and barely clearing a couple hundred thousand pounds for the year. Not a horrible living, but nowhere near what they should have been bringing in.

"Knock knock," a familiar voice cut through her thoughts. She'd been so engrossed that she had no idea anyone approached and jumped clear off her chair.

"Jack!" she exclaimed, smacking the handsome man on the arm. "Don't scare me like that!"

"You're yelling at _me? _Oh, that's rich," he said. "You and John weren't looking so good on Friday, then you both left and neither of you answered your phones...for all I knew you were lying dead in a ditch somewhere!"

"Yeah, well..." she replied, turning back to her monitor. "Not exactly dead in a ditch."

"What happened with you two?" Jack asked, pulling over a nearby chair.

Rose swallowed against the lump rising in her throat. "We're...I think we're over, Jack."

She gave him a brief overview of the story, admitting her stupid decision of not telling John about the exposé, even though she'd realized the error of her ways long before then and didn't think it mattered. She explained that she'd fallen in love with all of them, not only John, and she couldn't bear the thought of anyone hurting them.

"Oh, Rose..." Jack murmured, reaching over to rub her shoulders comfortingly. "You know, John wasn't exactly upfront with you, either."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"He's dated, a bit, since joining the band," he began. "But every girl he was with ended up being there for the wrong reasons. One was a singer, called herself Astrid, was only in it for the publicity. Dumped him pretty soon after she got a record deal. There was a gold digger named Christina Souza who left once she realized that he wasn't going to let her go on a spree with his credit cards. Cassandra O'Brien just dropped his name everywhere for everything from moisturizer to plastic surgery. The only one who was ever close to being serious was a woman named Joan, but she wanted him to leave his career behind and settle down. He reacted like that because he thought you were just another woman who was using him to get what she wanted."

"But I _was, _Jack! I absolutely was one of those women!"

"No, you weren't," he replied gently. "You may not have had good intentions at first, but that changed. You didn't know us then. I don't blame you for thinking we were all crazy sex addicts. You met Adam."

Rose managed a small chuckle at this. "I just don't know how I can get him to trust me again. I mean, I was stupid and didn't say anything. I don't blame him for reacting that way."

"Do you want me to talk to him?"

"No," Rose answered quickly. "No, I don't want him to think I'm trying to use you to get to him. But that doesn't matter. There are more important things happening right now. I really think that you should have an entertainment lawyer look over your contracts."

Jack's eyebrow shot up in question. "Really? Why?"

"Well, I can't be positive, but I think that, among other things, Saxon is pulling a Max Bialystock on you. He also apparently thinks that he's a member of the Vortex Boys even though I don't see him on stage every night working his sorry arse off for thousands of screeching teens..."

"Rose, calm down," Jack told her, a small grin on his face. "Start from the beginning. What was that about Max Bialystock? He wants us to do a song from _The Producers?_"

Rose sighed. "Look," she said, pulling up the photo in question and pointing out the area. "This number here is supposed to be his initial investment. This is a _lot _of money, more than I would have ever expected for him to put up, even for you lot. I'm thinking he fudged the books a little bit, you get it? Like, he told people that the cost of production was higher than it was so he could pocket the difference. Or get paid back an obscene amount more than he actually put in. See if you can get a look at his accounting books, or get a lawyer to order them. Especially because of this next part..."

She explained to Jack what she had found in the cleverly-worded contracts, that Saxon was taking his cut of the profits as if he was a sixth member of the group. "Did you even have anyone look over these contracts?"

"No," he admitted a little sheepishly. "They acted like since _we _auditioned, we wanted whatever they were willing to offer us."

"No one wants this deal," Rose told him, clicking "print" on the photos and gathering them up for Jack. "I did the math. Based on the hours you worked on this past tour, you were making less than ten pounds an hour. That's absolutely absurd, when your manager is building a palatial estate and buying jets. Really, find a good lawyer and figure out what you can do. He's up to something, and if he's doing this with every group he manages...well, you all have one hell of a law suit on your hands."

"I can't believe he would do this," Jack mused. "I mean, I know he was a little slimy. John never did like the vibe of him." A thought seemed to occur to him and he glanced at her, eyes quizzical. "Rose, how did you even _get _all of this?"

Rose flushed a bit and tried to look very busy organizing the pages. "Trust me, you don't need to know. I don't want any of you implicated in my stupid moves."

Jack didn't respond, at least not in words. Instead, he hoisted Rose to her feet and wrapped her in a huge bear hug. Rose automatically raised her arms and hugged him back, taking comfort in the familiar feel of the man who had quickly become one of her best friends.

"I can't believe you did this for us," he murmured before pulling back. "And when John finds out..."

"No!" Rose interrupted. "No, don't tell him. I don't want him to think I'm trying to...I don't know..._manipulate _him into trusting me again. If..." She choked a bit on the next words. "If he comes to the conclusion on his own, he knows how to find me."

Jack affectionately bumped his knuckles against her chin as she handed him the pile of documents. "Everything will be all right in the end. But I won't say a word. Thank you for the tip. I'll get a lawyer as soon as I'm back at my place."

"Good luck, Jack," Rose told him. "Please...take care of him? And keep in touch, yeah?"

"You think you're getting out of Friday night dinners?" Jack teased. "Bitch, please."

Rose laughed and hugged Jack once more. He left with a promise to call once he talked to the lawyer and they made plans for coffee later in the week. After he left the office, Rose sighed deeply and sat down at her desk, resolving to focus on work and turn her mess of random notes into an honest, cohesive article.

* * *

The next weeks passed in a haze of work, sleep, and state of mild depression. John was miserable. He couldn't sleep more than a few hours every night. He hadn't realized how much he'd come to rely on Rose's comforting warmth curled up against him until he felt the huge, cold expanse where she should have been. To escape, he was up at all hours composing and spent most of the days in the studio with the group. He was doing a lot of the arrangements on the Christmas album, something he'd never been able to do before and he suspected it was thanks to Donna. It wasn't the same as recording his own music, but it was _something_, and John was thankful for the distraction.

It was odd, how his head and his heart were constantly at war. He _knew_, in his mind, that Rose had broken his trust. She had admitted that she was planning the story, and why hadn't she told him before if she had given it up? His heart, however, ached for her. He had a very hard time shaking his faith in her. Even the songs that were pouring out of him should have been about deception and anger, but instead the words were entirely about missing her, feeling her absence acutely and even going so far as to feel as though part of himself was gone. But he had to be smart. He was successful, and people were lining up to take advantage of he and his friends and he wouldn't let that happen again.

They were in the recording studio, three weeks nearly to the day after the incident at the bar. They were working on the chorus of _The Christmas Song_, and he turned to the booth to cut the tape when he nearly dropped his headphones.

He recognized the older brunette that was standing in the booth, despite only meeting her once before. Everyone moment that he'd spent with Rose was burned into his memory, after all. Looking perfectly polished, with small smile on her face, was Rose's editor, Sarah Jane Smith.

"Can we have a mo'?" he asked the engineers, who glanced at one another and nodded. John placed his headphones on the music stand in front of him and moved into the booth, sticking his hands into his pockets and raising an eyebrow at Sarah Jane.

"Mrs. Smith," he greeted coolly. "What brings you to the studio?"

"Oh, well, I was just dropping off an advanced copy of Miss Tyler's article to Mr. Saxon. I have one for each of you as well, if you like."

"Well I can't speak for the rest of the group but I'll take a pass. Lovely to see you again," he dismissed, turning back to the studio.

"John," she said his name gently, almost imploringly. "Can we talk a moment? Perhaps in the hall?"

He sighed. His mind was screaming at him to politely decline and wish her well, but the bigger, stronger part of him wanted to hear what she had to say. She was a connection to Rose, after all. He knew Jack saw her often, but he never even really mentioned her in detail. Sarah Jane would most likely speak about her exclusively. And the part of him that missed her desperately was starving for any information he could get.

"All right," he murmured, feeling his shoulders sag a bit as a bit of his cool facade crumbled. They left the tiny booth and stood outside of the door.

"If I could be so bold," Sarah Jane began. "You're not looking well, John."

John blew out a noisy breath and ran his hands over his scruffy face. He had been going longer between shaves, and today it was particularly out of control. His hair was lying flat over his forehead, and he knew his clothes were wrinkled and obviously distressed. He was a mess, and frankly he couldn't bring himself to care.

"That's nice, thanks," he grumbled. "What can I do for you?"

"Rose isn't doing well either," Sarah Jane told him. "And before you jump to any conclusions, I'm not here on her behalf. In fact, she'll probably strangle me for getting involved. But the two of you are obviously hurting and...I thought you should know that she really wasn't planning the exposé. What she told you was true. She'd thought about it in the beginning, but it was practically a matter of _days _before she gave up on it. She cares about you, all of you, and she'd never do anything to cause you pain."

John shoved his hands in his pockets once more and dropped his gaze to the floor. He didn't want Rose's editor to see the hope that was beginning to shine in his eyes. "I don't mean to be rude, Mrs. Smith, but why should I believe that? I mean, you obviously care for Rose, and I'm sure you'd say anything to put her in a better light..."

He glanced back up and saw Sarah Jane inspecting him carefully. "Well, I suppose you're right. You barely know me, after all. But I suppose I can give you _this..._" She handed him a copy of the _Enquirer, _a bold headline stating _MY NIGHT WITH ADAM MITCHELL!_ by none other than Reinette Poisson. "...and ask that you consider the source..."

He swallowed against the lump in his throat. He didn't have the words to respond.

"Also," she said, pressing a copy of _Smash Hits _over top of the tabloid. "Please read the article. She's convinced herself that you'll never read it, and it's one of the most honest, emotional pieces I've ever seen in my _very _long career."

He still couldn't speak, but he managed a nod even as he stared at the headline of the article. _The Real Vortex Boys, _by Rose Marion Tyler, Staff Writer. Sarah Jane squeezed his arm and left him there. Before he could register what was happening, his feet were walking him towards an empty conference room where he sat down and flipped to the page listed on the cover.

_"Not many people would believe that I was dragged practically kicking and screaming into this assignment. I thought that The Vortex Boys were the typical artificial, manufactured boy band who enjoyed projecting that 'nice boy' image while hiding their true selves behind money and fame. What I didn't realize was that I would be embarking on the best three months of my life, shared with some of the most genuinely wonderful people I have ever met._

_"I didn't realize, in accepting this assignment, that I would fall head-over-heels in love with The Vortex Boys."_

* * *

The article didn't take long to read, but the short time was filled with a maelstrom of emotion. Rose hadn't given away anything they had told her in confidence. She talked about them individually, and even praised Adam liberally. She talked about their rituals, how affectionate they were with one another, their strength, their spirits, and how from that point on, whenever asked, she would have to say she couldn't choose a favorite Vortex Boy.

He could feel the tension in his knees. He was coiled to spring out of the chair and run to her, find her, wrap her in his arms and never let her go. But a small, niggling doubt in the back of his mind kept him rooted to the spot. She _had_ to know that what the article contained would get back to him somehow. It could still be the ploy of a manipulative, desperate woman who's sole purpose was to get what she wanted.

"Doc," Jack's voice assaulted him from the doorway. He glanced up and saw his friend and bandmate, clutching his mobile and a file folder and looking as though he was feeling some odd combination of excitement and nerves. "There you are. Listen, you're gonna need to hear this..."

"What is it, Jack?" he asked, pushing the magazine and thoughts of Rose to the side as Jack took the seat next to him and shoved the folder on the table.

"I just got off the phone with my lawyer," he rushed out. "We have a case. Against Saxon."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, pulling his specs out of his pocket and inspecting the familiar paperwork. "This is a copy of our contracts..."

"The contracts that contain proof of fraud, misrepresentation, and even suspected white-collar investment crimes," Jack told him. "Saxon's been paying himself as a member of the group since we started out. My lawyer contacted representatives of the other groups Saxon manages, and they all have similar contracts. He also may have committed investment fraud, which would land him in prison. I need you guys on board, though, I can't do this alone. We can all get our own lawyers or mine can represent us as a group, but we need to tell Donna and the rest of the guys..."

"Hold on, hold on..." John said, holding up his hands and gaping at the papers in front of him. "How could you possibly _know _about this? We all signed the same contracts! And you're just discovering it _now?_"

Jack hesitated. John could tell he was fighting some sort of internal battle, warring with himself. He always bit his lip when he was warring with himself, a brief thought flitted across him mind about how disturbing it was that he remembered that little tidbit. "Listen, don't get mad, please, because I swear, she asked me not to tell you..."

"Tell me what?" John asked, his heart picking up its pace. "Jack, tell me _what?_"

"Rose found all of this out. She had a feeling something was going wrong with our finances and she went digging," he rushed out. "I swear, John, I don't know how she did it, she wouldn't tell me, but I do know she didn't want me to tell you. She didn't want you to think that she was manipulating you into trusting her again..."

Before he knew it, John was out of his seat and sprinting towards the door. In that moment, for the first time in his life, the universe made _sense. _Everything was clear, but what was screaming at him with blinding certainty was how desperately he needed to apologize to Rose and win her back. "Something suddenly came up, Jack, and I need a little bit of time. Can you guys shift around the studio schedule?"

A knowing grin spread across Jack's face. "You do what you gotta do, Doc."

"Oh, you just watch me!" he said with a smile that practically set his cheekbones cracking. Oh, smiling felt good. He hadn't smiled nearly enough in the past three weeks.

Now, after far too long without her, he was finally going to win back the woman he loved.


	9. Chapter 9

**Apologies for this taking so long! I spent the last few weeks preparing for my next level in Tae Kwon Do and finally passed my test last weekend! This is the last chapter, but there will be an epilogue, and I have a few plans for some one-shots in the same verse. Thank you to everyone who's reviewed and read and sent such wonderful PMs! I hope this is worth the wait!**

The day her article was printed, Rose sat at her desk with a small smile on her face as she read through it for what felt like the millionth time. It had been a huge catharsis, helping her come to terms with her experiences and be glad for them, rather than mourning what she no longer had. She still missed John every day, but it was getting easier and easier to exist without his hand to hold.

At Sarah Jane's request, very little had been cut from her original piece, and she was grateful. For the first time since starting at _Smash Hits_, Rose actually felt a sense of pride in her work. She had put all of her emotion for the boys and for John into her writing and it truly showed. She felt good about the article, and that was something she'd been missing a great deal over the last six months.

Sarah Jane breezed by her desk and broke her out of her reverie. Rose was about to call out a greeting, but Sarah Jane simply winked and pointed to the phone before entering into her office. A few moments later, Rose's desk phone rang. Assuming it was Sarah Jane, she picked up the receiver and pressed a button without looking at the keypad.

She was about to answer with her standard "Rose Tyler," but stopped herself once she heard Reinette's voice, seemingly in the middle of a conversation. She realized quickly that she must have pressed the conference button by mistake, and opened her mouth to stammer out an apology. However, she was so shocked at what she overheard that she was rendered completely speechless.

"Well, the doctor said that the itching and burning is perfectly normal," Reinette said casually. "I just need to continue the course of antibiotics and it should clear up in no time."

A voice that Rose didn't recognize replied. "I can't believe you didn't make him wear a condom. What's the matter with you? Are you going to call him?"

Reinette scoffed. "And say what, Christine? 'Oh, Adam, remember that fantastic night a few weeks back? Well, you may or may not have given me trich. Or I gave it to you. Nice talking, 'ta!"

Rose nearly choked but instead set the phone down gently in its cradle, trying hard not to laugh. Instead of calling Sarah Jane back, Rose stood and made her way into her editor's office.

"Is your phone not working?" Sarah Jane asked as Rose entered the room.

"Oh, no, I just pushed the conference button by mistake. Best thing that's happened to me all day," Rose quipped with a smile. She was about to tell Sarah Jane what she overheard when something occurred to her. If she had been a cartoon character, a light bulb would have illuminated just over her head, and she had to grin at the mental image that offered. "Though I think I know how Reinette has found out all of these things she's not supposed to..."

Sarah Jane raised an eyebrow. "You think she's been listening in on my phone calls?"

"I don't know, but it would explain a lot," Rose said, sitting down in one of the chairs opposite her boss.

"Well, it would certainly add to her list of offenses," she replied, handing Rose a copy of the _Enquirer. _"Now, you didn't hear it from me, but she may or may not be reprimanded today for conduct unbecoming of a _Smash Hits _employee."

Rose felt her hands clench into fists as she read the headline Reinette apparently sold to the tabloid. She took comfort in knowing that no one took the paper seriously, but Adam would certainly not be happy knowing that his personal life was broadcast across Britain for a profit. In fact, she made a mental note to call and check on him, not forgetting to mention Reinette's STD as well.

"Not to be a tattle tale," Rose said, the words spilling uncontrolled out of her mouth as her anger at the woman flared. "But she may or may not have been making personal calls on the office line. Not that you heard it from me."

Sarah Jane smiled. "I will let our senior editor, Mr. Stewart, know. Now, I wanted to tell you something..."

A knock on the doorframe interrupted Sarah Jane, and Rose turned to see Lynda standing there, her cheeks flushed and a huge smile on her face. "Rose," she began breathlessly. "Someone's here to see you, but you need to go sign them in at reception."

"What?" Rose asked, confused. "Since when do I have to sign in guests? I've never signed Jack in."

"Yeah, but Chantho's got a huge crush on him so she always let him through," Lynda answered. "This one isn't so lucky."

Rose sighed and turned back to her editor. "I'll be back...soon I guess."

Sarah Jane had a wide grin on her face. "Take all the time you need."

Rose raised an eyebrow but shrugged, following Lynda out of the office and towards the reception desk. It took her a moment to register the familiar face waiting there, the face that had been the cause of sleepless nights, tears, and actual physical heartache for the last three weeks. The face that she missed so badly that she almost couldn't breathe from it. Her heart sped up and she was sure her mouth was hanging open as she took in the rumpled, unkempt appearance of the man she thought she'd never see again outside of magazines, billboards, and television. He was pacing in front of the desk, clearly agitated, muttering about bloody bureaucracies as Chantho tried to suppress her smile.

"John," she managed to breathe out. He glanced up and finally noticed her standing there, the expression on his scruffy face an impossible mix between relief, joy, and pure anxiety. He was still for only a split second before he was striding across the room, his eyes intense and completely fixed on her.

When he was finally in front of her, Rose swore he was going to take her in his arms and kiss her. Instead, he forcibly shoved his hands in his pocket, his shoulders tense, but his gaze never breaking from hers. John opened and closed his mouth several times, running his hand through his hair agitatedly before rubbing at the back of his neck. Rose had to fight back the radiant smile she could feel building at seeing these familiar tics she'd missed so badly and had convinced herself she'd never see again.

Finally, he broke the tension, his pale face stretching into a small smile at her assuredly amused expression. "Hello," he said quietly.

"Hello," she replied. "What are you doing here?"

He huffed, clearly frustrated. "I..." he began. "Rose, I..."

Muscle memory seemed to take over at that point and, practically on instinct, Rose reached out and grasped his hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing gently. It took a second for her brain to catch up with her actions, actions she realized a bit late that she wasn't entitled to anymore. She glanced down at their joined hands and flushed with embarrassment, despite feeling nearly whole for the first time since they parted ways. Rose raised her eyes and met his gaze, an apology already forming on her lips as she motioned to pull out of his grasp.

In a split second, she heard a heart-wrenchingly familiar whimper of need escape John's throat before he pulled her into his arms and was kissing her. Rose gasped in surprise as John pulled their joined hands to his chest, wrapping his free arm around her waist and dipping his tongue into her mouth. He explored her with a combination of reverence and hunger, the hand gripping her waist pulling her as tight against him as he could. Rose sagged and relaxed into him, kissing him back and trying to infuse the embrace with the maelstrom of emotions she felt in that moment. Every apology she wished she could have given him, all that she felt for him, she poured into the kiss even as she grew dizzy from lack of oxygen.

"Oh, honestly!" A snide voice broke into their perfect reverie. "Have you no integrity? Blatantly kissing in the middle of the lobby. You're embarrassing the magazine."

Rose pulled out of the kiss, breathing hard but unable to suppress her grin as she took in John's dazed expression. His eyes opened and the smile he gave her was so soft and tender that it made her knees weak.

It took a great deal of effort to pull her eyes away from John's face, his brown eyes sparkling and already looking more alive than when she'd first seen him, less than two minutes before. She turned to Reinette, who was glaring at them, Gucci bag on her shoulder and one hand on her hip. Her expression was murderous, and that would have been satisfaction enough, but Rose couldn't stop herself from making a comment.

"Yeah? Well, at least I don't kiss-and-tell-the-rags. You and I will have to have a talk about journalistic integrity later. Could you please let Sarah Jane know I'm taking a personal day?"

Reinette's eyes narrowed, but before she could comment, John's grip on Rose's waist tightened. She glanced back and him and he gave her a brilliant smile. "Yes, something suddenly...sprang up."

Rose laughed and smacked him on the shoulder. "You're horrible."

It was incredibly easy to fall into their usual banter, and the satisfaction of Reinette's indignant huffs before stumbling over her too-high heels on the way out just added to her good mood. But she knew they had to talk, and meeting John's heated gaze, she wanted to clear the air as quickly as possible.

"Lunch?" she asked him quietly.

"Yeah," he said, blowing out a breath and shifting, letting their joined hands fall between them. "Oh, Rose...there's so much I need to tell you."

"Me, too..." Rose told him, unable to stop her free hand from reaching to touch his face, tracing her her fingertips over his stubble. He sighed and his eyes slid shut as she caressed the dark purple shadows beneath them. "Come on, I know just the place..."

It wasn't much later that they were sitting in the shade of a giant tree, steaming containers of fish and chips on their laps. They weren't saying anything, they weren't even really eating, just pushing the fried bits around on their plates while they waited for the other to start talking.

"Rose-"

"John-"

They chuckled. John reaching up to rub at the back of his neck before turning so he could more fully face her. He lifted the plate of fish and chips from her lap and set it on the ground next to his own, taking her hands in his and blowing out a long, noisy breath.

"I need to go first," he said. "Rose...I don't know how you could ever forgive me for doubting you."

Rose started, shaking her head a bit. "I'm sorry...you think _I _should be forgiving _you_?"

"Oh, yes," he breathed out, reaching up to cup her cheek. "I know we haven't known each other _that _long, not really long at all in fact. But we have this..._connection_ and I should have known better. When a woman who you clearly don't think much of tells me something and I jump to conclusions...well, that was unforgivable..."

"John, I don't blame you for it-"

"I know," he continued, stroking his thumb tenderly along her cheekbone. "And _that_, Rose Tyler, is what makes you extraordinary."

"I should have told you," she replied. "I know I should have...but things were so intense and _so good..._I guess part of me didn't want to do anything to muck it up."

"Yes, well, not exactly something you can easily work into the conversation," he said. "'John, do you fancy coffee or tea? Oh, I was planning on writing a scathing exposé about you and your friends but I thought better of it once I started to like you and all.' I honestly am not sure that would have been much better."

Rose giggled a bit and nuzzled into his palm. "It would have gone over well, let me tell you."

He chuckled. "Well, we're quite a pair aren't we?"

Rose grinned, her tongue coming out to tuck between her teeth playfully. "So we're still a pair then?"

"Oh, I hope so," he breathed out, leaning in to brush his lips against hers. Rose smiled into the kiss and returned the gentle pressure. It felt like mere moments before he let out a low groan and deepened the kiss, cupping her other cheek and pressing her back against the tree trunk. Any lingering self-awareness was swept away with the first stroke of his tongue against hers and she quickly pushed up on her knees to switch their positions.

"Ewwww, Mummy, they're _snogging!_" a tiny voice called out, causing Rose to pull away and flush brilliantly. "Why're they snogging there, Mummy? Stop telling me to hush, I want to know!"

Rose chuckled and ducked her head into John's chest. "Maybe...slowing it down a bit is a good idea. I don't fancy the idea of shagging you in the middle of a park."

His eyes turned dark, something that didn't help Rose's self-control in the least. "Oh, I dunno...I seem to remember you being quite fond of the outdoors before..."

Rose flushed again and swallowed, her throat suddenly very dry. "Very different in the middle of the day, John. Come on, distract me, talk to me. What have you been doing? And what on Earth made you show up at my office?"

"_Weeeelll,_" he said, once again reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. "Jack, I suppose. That was the answer to the second question, _not _the first. Just to keep it clear." He grinned at her teasingly before his smile softened. "He told me that you, impossible woman that you are, managed to discover that Saxon has been mucking us up since we signed his stupid contract. My brilliant Rose," he murmured, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

Rose ducked her gaze from his, staring at their entwined hands. "He wasn't supposed to tell you that."

"He did, though," John continued tenderly. "Rose...what you did for us, what you _risked..._"

Rose shrugged, still unable to meet his eyes. "Nothing you wouldn't have done for me."

"And yet, I believed the worst without even talking to you," he said, placing his finger under her chin and gently coaxing her head up, his brown eyes filled with apologies. "Can you ever forgive me?"

Rose didn't answer. Instead, she enfolded him in her arms, pulling him down with her to lean against the tree trunk. He wrapped his arms around her middle and sighed contentedly as he rested his head against her chest, his ear over her heart, her fingers running leisurely through his hair.

"There's nothing to forgive," she whispered, pressing her lips to his hair.

John's shuddering breath whooshed over her skin. He tightened his grip on her waist and held her as close as he could. "I missed you so much," he murmured, hesitating a bit before he continued. "And, I realized something, in missing you and writing songs and being a general prat. It was a very difficult realization to come to, you see, and even harder to decide to share with you, as I haven't had much luck with it in the past. But you're..._different _and you've shown me over and over again how different and did I _mention _how much I missed this particular spot right here?" He snugged a bit closer, nuzzling the skin above her breasts. "_This _is the nicest spot in the universe. It functions as a cushion and a pillow and it just smells lovely..."

Rose giggled. "Did you have a point in there somewhere?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, the point of all of this. Well, during our time apart, I happened to realize that..." He paused and looked up at her, the emotion in his eyes causing her heart to start pounding out an erratic rhythm. "Well...I love you, Rose," he finished softly, pressing a kiss to the skin just over her heart.

Rose sucked in a breath, the words instantly ready to burst from her lips but he pressed on. He pulled away so that they were once again sitting opposite one another and kept up his babbling. "You don't need to say it back. I know, it really hasn't been long enough. For other people, anyway. Not for us, not you and me. Because I know it, I've known it for a long time in fact but I'm not saying _you _need to know it..."

Rose had learned early on in their relationship that a truly fantastic way to cut him off mid-ramble was to ensure his mouth was busy with...other things. She grasped him by his lapels and sealed her mouth to his, causing a surprised noise to escape his throat before he was enthusiastically returning the kiss.

He hummed contentedly as she pulled away, pressing her forehead against his and dancing her fingertips through the short hairs on the back of his neck. He shuddered a bit and Rose grinned.

"Well, everyone _does_ have their favorite Vortex Boy," she said teasingly.

"Is that right?" he replied, pulling back to return her grin. "And who might yours be, Miss Tyler? Inquiring minds want to know."

"Oh, it's so hard to choose. I do love Jack. He's just so charming and handsome...and then there's Rory..."

John huffed, his lip jutting out in an adorable pout that Rose smoothed over with her thumb. "Though I have to say, that John Smith is _so _dreamy..." She leaned in a pressed her lips to his in a feather-light caress. "And I think I might love him."

His grin was enough to make the gorgeous, late summer afternoon just a bit brighter. "Yeah?"

_"Yes."_


	10. Chapter 10

**Here's the epilogue! I hope you all have enjoyed reading as much as I've enjoyed writing this. THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR AWESOME REVIEWS AND MESSAGES! I'll get around to answering them soon, I promise :-) For now, I hope this helps! :-D**

_Six Months Later_

Rose glared murderously at her desktop screen. She was trying to learn the new formatting software and no matter what she did, the text would not go where she wanted. She huffed, frustrated, and wondered again why she had accepted the promotion to junior editor. It was lovely to work directly under Sarah Jane, and even more lovely to be considered Reinette's superior, even though she didn't report to Rose. She was just coming off her six-month disciplinary probation and her behavior had been stellar.

It didn't help her mood that John had been absent for their standing lunch date the few weeks for the trial against Saxon. It seemed to be going well thus far, despite Saxon's legal team putting forth quite creative arguments. They even attempted a countersuit against the boys which was thrown out in the first stages of the hearing. Things were winding down and were looking good for the Vortex Boys and the other bands on the label. In fact, they had spent the last two days waiting for a verdict. Rose's nails were now bitten down to the quick from anxiety. She'd been staying at John's flat most nights at his request, and knew how stressed he was.

Her desk phone began to ring, breaking her out of her thoughts. She answered it in her normal fashion, and she grinned as Chantho's perky voice informed her that she had a visitor at reception. Rose grinned and recalled her instructions to always make John wait at reception, something that frustrated him and amused her to no extent, especially when Jack was with him and able to just breeze past.

Rose informed Chantho that she would be there presently and placed the receiver in the hook before she bounded towards reception. If John was there, the jury must have delivered the verdict. Despite the nearly iron-clad case their lawyers had built, she was still nervous. She would be nervous until Saxon was behind bars where he belonged.

The unruly mop of hair that Rose loved so dearly came into view as she approached. As if he could sense her, his eyes shot up and his face broke in to a breathtaking, joyous grin. Rose felt her own grin stretch out to match and she let out the mental breath that she had unknowingly been holding for the past six months.

"So..." Rose said as he encircled her in his arms. "Good news?"

John laughed and pulled her into a tight hug. "Rose Tyler," he began, his voice light and happy for the first time in _months. _"Come on, I'm buying you chips."

"Guilty," John said the moment they sat down at their favorite chippy, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Guilty on investment fraud, misrepresentation, and breach of contract. He'll be sentenced soon enough, but they're looking at minimum ten years in prison, all of his assets being used to pay damages, and he's been removed from his position as president and CEO of Masterworks Entertainment."

Rose's face broke out in a smile that matched his. "But...that's..." She trailed off, trying to find a word appropriate for how amazing everything was turning out. "It's just..."

"Yeah," John agreed, reaching across the table to take her hands in his. "Donna was the highest-ranking employee cleared of any wrong-doing, so she's been named to take over."

"No!" Rose gasped. "That's just perfect that is!"

"She's gonna be brilliant," he told her as their food arrived and they began fixing the steaming bits of fried potato to their liking. When they were finished, John reached back for her hands before she could start eating.

"Oi!" Rose teased, grinning at him. "I only have an hour for lunch, Dr. Smith."

He grinned back before glancing down at their joined hands and taking a deep breath. "Well, here's the big news. Donna's already had new contracts drawn up, and Rory's gone house hunting with his mum," John rushed out, gripping her hands tightly. His palms were clammy and damp, as they generally got when he was nervous. Rose nearly snorted. What could he possibly have to be nervous about?

"That's fantastic," Rose said, squeezing his hands tightly. "I'm glad. He deserves it. You all do. My brilliant boys." She her smile softened as she gazed at him affectionately, an expression that he returned, the look that never ceased in making her heart skip a beat.

"_Well_," he drew out the word. "He had me thinking about that. Investing in real estate. A bigger flat, maybe?"

"Might be a decent plan," Rose told him, wondering what he was getting at. "I love your flat, but I know you had plans for your studio that wouldn't exactly fit there."

"Right, right," he said, unable to meet her eyes. "And, see, that's the thing, isn't it? Bigger flat means more space. More space for...stuff. Stuff...I don't have. I don't have enough stuff for more space, Rose. And I was thinking that it might be...nice...for there to be more stuff." He finally met her gaze, his eyes brimming with nerves and emotion and Rose had to swallow against the lump suddenly rising in her throat. "Some...Rose stuff?"

Rose gasped, but he barreled on. "And of course, with Rose stuff, there would be Rose as well. I'm counting on that. And, if you want, you could...help me? Find a place? That...could be...ours? Because I find myself not wanting you to leave. Ever. And if we had a place that was ours, well, then you'd never _have_ to leave..."

"Hold on, hold on," Rose said, waving a hand in front of him to cut off his babbling. "Just to be clear...you want me to move in? With you?"

John let out a breath and met her gaze. "I do, Rose," he replied simply. "I know, I won't be there as much as I should be or as much as I want to be. There will be tours and promotions and gigs and recording sessions and all of the rubbish that goes along with this bloody job. But I meant what I said back then and I mean it now. When I do come home...I want it to be to you." He gazed at her with free, naked adoration and Rose's breath caught. "You _are _my home, Rose Tyler. It doesn't matter where we live. Could be a caravan in the mountains. But it's home, if you're there."

Rose's heart was pounding. She'd been thinking about this for some time, probably around the fourteenth consecutive night that he'd asked her to stay and gave her two whole drawers to keep a week's worth of clothes. Rose had realized that, as inconvenient as it was sleeping at John's while still technically _living _with her mother, she didn't really _want _to leave. Ever. She wanted to spend every night she could with him. He was echoing exactly how she'd been feeling for quite some time and all she wanted to do was pull him to her and snog the life out of him. Mindful of being in the middle of a crowded chippy, Rose settled for reaching up and lovingly cupping his cheek.

"You're sure about this?" she asked. "I mean, you've seen my shoe collection..."

"Yes, well, precisely why we need to narrow our search to only flats with lots of closet space," John replied, quickly turning business like as he pulled a pad and pen from his jacket pocket. "I took the liberty of starting a list. Big closets, lots of open space..." He glanced up at her with a wolfish grin that got her heart pounding erratically in her chest. "...shower for two. You know, the usual..."

"Ah, well...I guess we're gonna need the name of Rory's realtor then, aren't we?" she replied softly, tucking her tongue between her teeth and unable to contain the teasing smile she knew was one of her boyfriend's greatest weaknesses.

John's answering smile was luminous. He looked years younger, and happier than she'd ever seen him before. "Yeah?"

"_Yes._"

John never did hold any regard for public places. In fact, they had been photographed so often in the middle of public snogfests that it wasn't even news anymore. So when he leaned over the table and captured her lips with his, Rose didn't hesitate to thoroughly kiss him back.

Rose eventually did have to get back to work, John making a rather ridiculous production of her kiss goodbye, knowing that Reinette's new desk was in full view of the reception area. He also made a point to mention, loudly, that he would contact the realtor as soon as possible. Rose shook her head as he left but couldn't deny the satisfaction of Reinette's face turning that particular shade of purple once again.

Rose managed to get through the day and headed out promptly at six PM to meet the entire group plus significant others for a celebratory dinner. Once she arrived and gave the code name "Charlie Brown," she was quickly ushered to a quiet back room where everyone was waiting. They greeted Rose joyously and John immediately thrust a glass of champagne into her hand before wrapping an arm around her waist.

"Okay, now that we are all present and accounted for," he began, picking up a knife and clinking the side of his glass. "Blimey, we've got some things to celebrate tonight, haven't we?"

The other eleven people in the room applauded and cheered briefly before John grinned and continued. "We now have the greatest manager in the history of the music business. To Donna Noble, president and CEO of MasterWorks Entertainment!"

The group toasted with a loud "Hear, hear!" before taking sips from their glasses. Donna beamed happily from her place next to Lee, her new beau. John raised his own glass to them before he continued.

"To Rory, who finally bought that house for dear Mrs. Williams. Please let Mummy know we are expecting daily deliveries of her chocolate chip cookies."

They toasted with huge grins before John continued. "To Jack and Ianto, for finally giving in to the inevitable!"

Someone wolf-whistled as the group laughed and clinked glasses with the happy new couple. "Martha and Mickey, to a long and happy life together. You two truly deserve it! Congratulations!"

Martha looked confused and glanced up at Mickey, who had paled significantly. "Hadn't actually gotten around to it yet, mate..."

"Oh," John said quietly, before flashing everyone an embarrassed smile. "Well, then...um...Adam! Yes, Adam...Adam, Adam, Adam...to 265 days sober! I think I speak for us all when we say how proud we are!"

Adam smiled softly and clinked his glass of ginger ale with those around him. Rose had to grin. He had finally taken to wearing shirts, after a nearly disastrous meeting with their attorney early on when he had basically guaranteed that no one would take them seriously unless Adam changed his attire. He was currently in a black Oxford and grey suit, and Rose would never admit to John that he really was a handsome guy.

"And finally, I want to say thank you to a very special woman." He turned to Rose and gave her a smile that was so sweet, so full of adoration that he knees practically buckled. "We would have precious little to celebrate if it hadn't been for you. Rose Tyler...you are _brilliant._"

Rose beamed. "You're not so bad yourselves, you know."

John grinned and swept in for a brief but heated kiss. When he pulled back, his eyes were suspiciously moist. "Thank you. For everything you did, for being with me, for agreeing to live with me...for everything."

Rose stood on tiptoe to press a gentle kiss to his lips. "I love you," she murmured.

"I love you," he replied quietly, the cling of champagne glasses and the din of happy, excited voices barely audible as they became lost in one another yet again.

Rose didn't pay any mind to what they were missing. She had a feeling there would be many, many more reasons to celebrate in their future.


End file.
